A Very Jamy Christmas
by feedthecat
Summary: Jake gets himself in a bit of a situation when he tells his mum he's bringing home a girlfriend for Christmas. After hours of announcing, inviting, and pleading, only one person in the Precinct agrees to pretend to be his girlfriend: Amy Santiago. They pair up for a weekend and get into all kinds of shenanigans together. Out of surprise, it turns out to be the best Christmas yet.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Decided to give Jamy fanfiction a try! This is (probably) just going to be a really short and fluffy one. I've made up several things though, like giving Jake's mum a name, deciding where his family home is, and the entire existence of his elder sister. Other than that, pretty much everything's the same. Enjoy and please leave reviews!**

* * *

**24 December, 5:00PM**

"Mum, this is Amy, my girlfriend."

"Oh Amy! That's a lovely name. I'm so glad that rowdy man child Jake has finally settled down. You look very pretty."

"Thanks, Mrs. Peralta," Amy smiled awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say. Jake had his arm around her shoulder and she could smell his washing powder. She squirmed uncomfortably, but kept a smile on her face.

"You can just call me Julie," she laughed warmly, and the sound of her bangles made a clinking sound as she held out her arm and squeezed Amy's forearm. "Everyone calls me Julie."

"Okay... Julie," Amy stammered, feeling overwhelmed and underprepared.

"Amy's really looked forward to this weekend," Jake added to fill the silence and to make up for Amy's awkward behaviour. "Am I right, darling?"

They exchanged a look, and Amy smiled as wide as she could.

"Yeah. I can't wait to get started."

* * *

**Flashback to the day before:**

**23 December, 9:05AM**

"Detective Peralta, it's 9:05." Captain Holt tapped his watch and bellowed without flinching as Jake tried to sneak past the landing and to his seat. He looked up to see Holt standing across him, arms folded. Jake smiled sheepishly.

"Oh hi, Captain. Didn't see you there," he belted out, extending an arm to shake the Captain's hand, but Holt remained unimpressed.

"Maybe I should remind you that this is the third time you've been late this week."

"And it's only Wednesday," a voice from behind the silhouette of Holt contributed gleefully. Jake looked over his shoulder and discovered a grinning Amy, holding a mug of coffee in one hand with a stack of reports tucked under her arm. "What's your excuse this time? That you woke up late because your alarm didn't go off, just like it didn't yesterday and the day before that?"

"Actually, that is the _truth_, and I stand by that statement firmly," Jake said, raising a finger to silence her, but she only raised an eyebrow.

"Then maybe it's time for you to get a new alarm clock-" Amy started, and paused in mid-sentence. "Except you can't, because you are in debt right now, aren't you, Jake?"

Jake was flustered for once, but he nodded and kept his cool.

"I'll have you know that I am in debt only because I have an impeccable taste in massage chairs," Jake retorted. "Not that you'd know what they are, because your house looks like you are perpetually stuck in the mid 40s."

Amy frowned.

"My house does _not _lo-"

"That's enough, Santiago," Holt commanded, cutting Amy off, and she had a look of shock on her face as Jake pulled a face at her defeat. She tried to defend herself but he would hear none of it, so she ended up settling at her desk like a child being punished. "And you too, Peralta. Go get your reports typed up immediately. I want your paperwork completed and I want them on my desk in an hour."

"But Captain, it's the holidays," Jake whined loudly, slumping down into his chair as Holt walked back into his office. He turned around at the doorframe and looked at Jake.

"It's December 23rd, and today is not a holiday," he announced solemnly without an emotion, before slamming his door shut and getting back to his desk.

Jake raised his arms in the air, defeated, and across him, Amy smirked as she sipped her coffee.

"Good going, Jake."

He rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, butt face Amy."

* * *

**10:00AM**

"Listen up, everyone!" Jake stood on top of his desk and called out as he smoothed his tie with one hand. "I have something to ask."

Everyone but Gina looked up from their desks and stared at Jake in anticipation. He looked at her and cleared his throat loudly, and there was a lingering silence in the air before Gina, too, looked up to investigate what was happening.

"Thanks, Gina," Jake said, and returned his gaze to the crowd. "So it's the holidays, and you know how my mum-"

"She's hot," Charles interrupted, and Jake paused. He let out a breath, mildly irritated.

"Please do not call my mother hot, or any variation of that," he said solemnly, clasping his hands together for a split second. "Anyway. Guys? She was telling me all about how my _sister_ recently got married, and then because I am a quick-witted gentleman, I told my mum, in a spur of the moment, that I, too, have a partner to bring home during Christmas. But as you all know, I-"

"-don't have a girlfriend," Charles interrupted again, this time finishing Jake's sentence excitedly, and Jake nodded, sighing.

"That's right, everybody. Charles is right. I do not have a girlfriend. So long story short, because I'm not trying to waste anyone's time-"

"-just get to the point," Gina whined, spinning her phone in her hand impatiently.

"Gina-" Jake began, and noticed her phone had lit up suddenly. She did, too, and looked at the screen for a second before unlocking it excitedly.

"Sorry, Jake, can't talk, can't help, can't anything." She looked down without a second's hesitation, her fingers tapping at her screen frantically. "Drake just tweeted. I need to be the first one to tweet him back so my name will be under his tweet every time someone else opens it... done." She looked up, eyeing the bored crowd. "And _that's_ how you gain followers, you bunch of innocent, social media trainwrecks."

Jake shook his head, but couldn't say he was surprised. He carried on.

"If anyone would like to volunteer as my pretend girlfriend, I've put up a sign-up sheet outside the Captain's office, and the details are as follows - starting tomorrow evening, we're going to be spending four days at my mum's place in Omaha," he spotted the confused look on Gina's face and added, "which is in Nebraska."

She nodded, and Jake continued. "We'll be back by Sunday afternoon, and there is no cost to any of this. It's free. And if you have any questions, you may now shoot."

Charles raised his hand, and Jake nodded, taking his question.

"Can I be your girlfriend?"

Jake pulled a face.

"No, Charles. I would prefer if my girlfriend were a woman, but thank you for your suggestion."

Charles looked deflated for a moment before raising his hand again.

"Yes, Charles. Again."

"Can I dress up to be a woman to be your girlfriend?"

"No, that's... that's not- that's not happening."

"But what if I wear my wig?"

"_No_," Jake dismissed him. "And why do you have a wig? Wait. I don't want to know. Next question please."

Rosa raised her hand impatiently, a scowl on her face, and Jake called on her.

"Do I get paid?"

"Good question." Jake paused. "No, you do not get paid. But you get to spend time with my mum and I, which is priceless and is worth more than being paid."

Rosa rolled her eyes.

"Pass."

"That's fine," Jake shrugged, "I know it was hard for you to pass up this opportunity, but I'm glad you're being honest about it."

She looked at him in disdain, and he looked away, searching for more questions. His eyes landed on Amy, and he looked at her expectantly.

"Don't look at me," Amy said, raising both hands in the air as if to defend a blow. "I'm spending my Christmas holidays with one of my seven brothers and his very pregnant wife; I'm not available."

Scully raised his hand, and Jake dismissed him before he could even get his question across. Gina cleared her throat.

"Jake, I feel really sorry for you right now, but don't worry. I can be your pretend girlfriend. I'm good at this stuff. I've been hired for acting gigs to play as emergency girlfriends before so many times."

Jake's eyes lit up with gratitude. "Really? That's awesome. I mean, I've grown up with you and we go way back, and you're practically my _sister, _but I think my mum has always wanted us to get it on... you know, she had this passive, secretive way-"

Gina scrunched up her nose in disgust, and Jake shrugged.

"It'll be fine. It's just a few days. Come on, Gina. Do this for me."

She paused, and then made a face. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. I was going to spend my weekend in the dance studio on my own anyway. And now you're offering a free trip to California..." she eyed the office. "I swear, you guys are all idiots for not taking up this offer."

Jake hesitated. "Gina, Nebraska is not in California."

"Oh," Gina's eyes widened. "Pass."

Jake rolled his eyes. "_Gina_."

"I'm not spending my Christmas in the middle of nowhere, Jake. I can't."

"It's not in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, it's not in California."

"Lots of places are not in California but they are still pretty dope."

Gina frowned, unconvinced.

"Is there even, like, proper Internet there?"

"Not at my mum's place because it's kind of backwards, but you can always treasure the true meaning of Christmas by spending time interacting with other human beings, like, face to face. Like how normal people communicate."

"Jakey... I love your mum, but I love the Internet more," Gina whined. "Sorry, girl. Four days is a lot to ask. If I don't tweet for this length of time, my followers are going to think I got murdered. Or worse, they're going to start unfollowing me... and it's going to break my heart. And I've just passed three thousand followers... a queen cannot desert an entire empire like that."

Jake was about to complain when Holt opened the door to his office. Everyone was silent, and he looked at Jake, demanding an explanation.

"What's the commotion here? Why are you standing on your desk, Peralta?"

"Jake needs a girlfriend to bring home to for Christmas, Sir." Amy replied, looking alert as ever.

"I offered, but he turned me down," Charles added in a helpful tone.

For a small moment, there was nearly a smirk on Holt's face, but he pulled himself together quick enough.

"Have you finished the rest of the work you're supposed to do?"

"No, but-"

"Then get down and stop wasting your time," Holt commanded and closed the door to his office.

Jake looked at his team. "You bunch of traitors." Slowly, he slid off his desk and back into his seat.

* * *

**1:15PM**

"You know what would be funny? If you went ahead to your mum's and had to admit that you don't actually have a girlfriend because nobody here at the Precinct is willing to help," Amy said as she looked over to Jake.

"I do vividly recall Charles volunteering," Jake snapped back, feeling disgusted at himself for being the vulnerable target of Amy Santiago's verbal harassment.

"Oh yeah? So take him, if you so 'vividly recall'," she snickered, taunting him.

"I'm not even going to _start _this conversation with you right now, because you are a toxic example of human waste, and I'll never stoop to your level." Jake brushed off her comments as he gathered his long overdue paperwork. He got up, bringing the pile of files with him, making his way to Holt's office.

"Very mature," Amy commented, trying to keep her cool, but clearly disappointed that he had chosen to go down this lane and not fight back.

"As always," he replied loudly as he stepped into Holt's office and slammed the heavy stacks of paper onto his desk. "Done and done and done. I am two hours late, but... all in a day's work, Sir. Whatever that means."

* * *

**3:30PM**

"Seriously, guys? Zero names on my sign-up sheet? Is this what friends are for?" Jake yelled as he went to check on the sign-up sheet later on in the day. He couldn't believe it. He had to get packing tomorrow to spend Christmas Eve at his mother's, and he knew he was about to be teased again for not having a girlfriend. Actually, he wasn't, originally - but now he had taken the extra step to cook up a lie, the only possible thing for him to do was to follow through.

"Rosa?" Jake tried once more as he went over to where she sat. She looked up at him and scowled, and he turned away, taking the hint. "Okay, that's a nope from you."

"Gina!" He tried once more, making his way to her desk. She was scrolling through Buzzfeed quizzes, one hand on the mouse and the other propping her head up.

"What is it, Jake?" she drawled unenthusiastically.

"Do you want to reconsider... becoming my pretend girlfriend?" he asked, and Amy turned around from her seat, raising an eyebrow. "Don't worry, I wasn't asking you, Santiago," he added, and she frowned.

"I didn't think... I wasn't thinking you were asking me," she said in a neutral tone, and whizzed back around to face her computer. Jake peeped at her screen and found that she was typing up reports, as usual. An IM notification popped up in the corner of her screen and she opened it, her eyes scanning the words frantically and typing a short reply before closing the tab as discreetly as she could.

"No, for the last time... I'm not going to be your girlfriend," Gina said. "There's too much sexual tension between us already... you're going to end up falling in love with me, like all those who have come before you, and I can't quit another job to avoid male attention again."

Jake rolled his eyes and moved on, standing behind Amy silently as her fingers flew frantically over her keyboard. He coughed, and she jumped.

"What do _you_ want, Peralta? Don't you have paperwork to do?" she asked in the same old annoyed tone that she always used with him - half disgusted, half intrigued. Jake had always appreciated that tone. It let him know that while she was obviously trying hard to have the upperhand, she wasn't intentionally malicious with her words. She just happened to be super Type A and dominating.

"I can't believe you use instant message at work," he said, his smile turning into a full-blown grin. "I'm so going to tell Holt about this. Best day of my life!"

Amy's eyes widened with fear and clung to his wrist with both hands with such force that it jerked his shoulder.

"_Ow_," Jake whined, but she didn't let go. She seemed genuinely concerned.

"Please don't tell the Captain about this. It was nothing- it's not a big deal. I'm not talking to anybody-"

"_Liar!_" Jake exclaimed dramatically, retracting his arm and rubbing his wrist softly like he had just been bruised by a ten pound hammer. She looked helpless. He pulled a face of disbelief and continued. "How dare you not abide by the office's handbook of... whatever the heck... _rules? _And this is Amy Santiago, of all people. I must say I am very disappointed in your behaviour."

She frowned, and then argued.

"In my defense, it doesn't actually _say _you can't use instant message at work. It just says on Page 5, under Section 2 Part C, that no Skyping or Facebook is allowed. And I'm doing neither of those things," she spoke quickly, her tongue nearly tripping over her words.

"Okay," he responded awkwardly. _Typical Amy,_ he thought,_ to have known and practically memorised all the rules. _To be frank, he didn't even _know_ there was a guidebook for the precinct. He had just made it up on the spot. But he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Who were you messaging anyway?" he enquired.

"That's none of your business," she snapped, tightening her lip, and he pretended to stroll off in the direction of the Captain's office.

"Okay, I'm telling Holt that you're having a secret love affair-"

"No!" she exclaimed, before realising she had forgotten to use her indoor voice. "I mean, _no_!" She whispered forcefully. "I'm messaging my brother, you bastard."

He walked back to where she stood, his arms crossed.

"Put a quarter in the swear jar."

Amy obeyed, fishing her pocket for a coin before she stopped in her tracks and looked up at him.

"No, _what am I doing_? I'm an adult. I can say whatever I want. You don't own me." She retracted her hand from her pocket. Jake snickered. "Stop snickering at me."

"Why were you messaging your brother? He can't make it? Does that mean you're free?"

"No," Amy blurted. "All is fine. All is going _fine_. It's going to be fine. Everything is... fine."

"Can you say 'fine' again? I don't think I quite heard you say that the last four times you said it."

Amy punched Jake in the rib and he doubled back.

"Damn it! That actually hurt, Santiago."

"Good," she said, smiling in smug satisfaction as a little message popped up in the bottom right corner of her screen for the second time.

Jake grabbed her mouse without a second's hesitation - faster than Amy could react - and clicked on the little box. It enlarged to a chat box and he scanned his eyes along the words, mumbling to himself as he fended off a protesting Amy who was simultaneously trying to cover up her computer screen and navigate the mouse.

"Sorry Ames... late notice... Samantha had her baby last night... can't make it... needs to reschedule..." he read out loud, and then he looked at Amy, who paused in her tracks. They exchanged a long glance and he let out a whooping laugh.

"Amy Santiago, you... you lying little minx! Everything is not 'fine', everything's over for you because your brother has ditched you-"

"He has not _ditched _me! His wife had a baby!"

"Whatever," Jake shook off her comment and she frowned. "You're free. Which means... you are in for a treat."

"I'm not going to be your stupid pretend girlfriend," she spat out the words in disdain.

"Are you sure? Because I heard the Peralta family is pretty dope, and everyone should meet my mum at least once in their lives-"

"I'm sure. I'm very sure," Amy said, ending the conversation.

"...about agreeing to pretend to my girlfriend," Jake said. "I finished your sentence for you. 'I am very sure about agreeing to pretend to be your girlfriend. It's my one true passion in life.' You said it, Amy. Be a real man. No take-backs!" he yelled in glee as he went back to his seat opposite her, propping his chin up with his hands, his elbow on the table.

Amy raised her arms in mid-air. "What...? What is this logic of yours? I didn't-"

"You _said_ it, you can't back out of it now." Jake said, picking up his phone. "I'm going to text my mum now and tell her you're coming."

"I didn't-"

"Text sent." He looked at her square in the eye, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Amy tried to argue, but she was out of words. His phone beeped, and he checked it. "Oh, a text from my mum. She's already super excited. You just can't let her down like this."

Amy hesitated, and then slumped her shoulders. She looked at him dejectedly.

"Fine," she concluded. "I guess I can do four days."

"Yes!" Jake yelled from his seat, startling her.

"Only four days."

"Whatever," he brushed her off. He raised his voice so the entire office could overhear him: "I've always said, Amy Santiago, you are the second best person slash detective in this precinct. And I'm right. You have proved me _right_ today."

"Yeah, the best being you, right?" she responded, rolling her eyes. "I'm doing this for your mum, not you, so you can stop being so excited about it now."

"Seriously. Thank you," he looked at her solemnly, gratitude in his eyes, and she shrugged it off like it never mattered to her anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Yay! People are actually reading this. :-)**

* * *

**24 December, 8:58AM**

"You're on time today," Holt bellowed as he stood up straight. He had been leaning against Jake's desk with a watch on his wrist, ready to call him out for being late again. To everyone's surprise, he made it on time, though he was covered in sweat from head to toe and panting like a dog after it had been set loose on a field.

"Thanks," Jake coughed, doubling over to recover his breath.

"I didn't compliment you," the Captain said as a matter-of-factly before he got up and strolled back into his office without another word.

"Typical Holt, am I right?" Jake panted, walking back to his seat. He pulled his chair out and collapsed on it, and Amy looked at him in disgust, crinkling her nose.

"You smell disgusting," she commented. "What the hell have you been doing this morning?"

"Just went to the gym and did one full Terry work-out, no big deal," he lied, shrugging.

"No, you didn't. I was at the gym today and I didn't see you there," Terry called out from where he was sitting, shuffling his paperwork.

Amy looked at Terry, and then back at Jake, twirling a pen between her fingers.

"So?"

"Why do you need to know?" Jake asked, feeling defensive.

"You're right. I don't. And I don't want to know," Amy said, getting up to make herself a coffee. She put down her pen and picked up her mug. Before walking away, she added, "I just wanted you to know that you smell disgusting."

"Message received," Jake said whilst turning on his computer. "And I just want you to know that I still smell better than you do, and I smell better than you ever will, _and I-_" he stopped talking when he realised Amy wasn't listening, and let out a huge breath. He raised one arm in the air and ever so discreetly, tried to smell his own underarm to see if he really _did_ smell that bad. He was pretty sure he didn't, but he was just checking. To make sure.

"Ew, Jake." Gina called out as she watched him. "Don't smell your armpit. That's disgusting."

"I wasn't smelling my armpit, Gina. Stop stalking me," Jake said.

"I literally sit right in front of you. I don't have a choice," she whined. "I have to see your face full-frontal every time Amy walks off."

"That's a gift," he said. "And let's just say that even if I were smelling my own armpit - which I am not, because that's a hypothetical situation - _even if I were smelling my own armpit,_ I declare that it doesn't smell bad. I smell alright, okay? Maybe not good, but I won't go as far to say I smell _bad_."

"No, you absolutely do. I can smell you from where I'm sitting and I'm telling you, you need to take a shower before you kill all of us at the precinct with your toxins," she responded. "I can't die, not before I watch tonight's episode of Grey's Anatomy. Hashtag, TGIT. Hashtag, Meredith is my homegirl."

"Okay... I totally know what you're talking about," he murmured, and Gina gave him a weak smile.

"You will never understand me, Jake. I am a majestic creature," she purred. "I was not made to be understood. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to bounce." She got up and walked down the hallway, texting along the way and ignoring Scully when he tried to talk to her. Jake watched until her silhouette has disappeared, and when no one was looking, he tucked his chin into his neck discreetly to check one more time if he really did smell that bad. His head shot up when the scent of his own sweat overpowered him.

_Okay, they're right. I do smell disgusting, _he thought, furrowing his brows. He could get up and take a shower, and he had an urge to, after receiving comments like Amy and Gina's. But he stood by his decision to just sit around and let the urge pass. To get up and do stuff or to not get up and do stuff? There was no debate. He decided that the latter was obviously the better option of the two. Maybe he would end up killing the whole precinct with his underarm smell, but it's not exactly murder if his colleagues _just happened_ to have sensitive noses, while he _just happened_ to be smelling like a dead animal. Coincidences. They were everywhere.

* * *

**10:30AM**

"Okay," Jake sat Amy down in the break room. He unwrapped the tin foil and the smell of grilled chicken filled the air, causing Amy to recoil. "I'm going to brief you on what you have to bring, and what we'll be doing, and most importantly, my mum."

"Do we really have to do this?" Amy whined, gripping the handle of her mug tightly, her other hand cupping the curved surface.

"Lighten up. It's Christmas Eve. And this is a briefing. You love this kind of stuff. Go get your notebook and a pen," Jake ordered, and Amy went to fetch what he had asked for. She came back with a leather bound notebook and a pen, and Jake raised an eyebrow, impressed. She was taking this seriously.

"So what do I have to bring this weekend?" she asked as she sat down again.

"Okay, first of all, in terms of what you'll be wearing... dresses. My mum loves it when my girlfriends wear dresses," he started, and she stared at him.

"Jake, you do know that you end up dating someone because you happen to love them, right? Not because of what your mum prefers."

"False. I end up dating someone as a result of what my mum thinks. Always. And I don't have a girlfriend anyway. I mean, we're just trying to do a good show here. Put 'dresses' down," he said, and when she didn't budge, he lightened his tone. "Sorry... I kind of get your point, but please put 'dresses' down."

She jotted it down quickly. He leaned over to check that she had written what he had asked her to, and he nodded.

"Good. And... heels. Not higher than four inches but not lower than two inches."

"So three," Amy said, writing down more notes, making scratchy sounds of her pen being dragged across the paper.

"Yeah," he responded. "But only wear them during the actual Christmas dinner. Any other time, you can wear whatever you want... except sandals. My mum hates exposed toes."

She was slightly confused, but she noted it down obediently.

_No sandals. Jake's mum hates exposed toes._

"Guess you really want to impress your mum, huh?" Amy asked, chewing the back of her pen as she looked up at him as soon as she was done.

"Obviously."

"You know, you don't have to construct a perfect girlfriend like this. Cheesy as it sounds, she's going to be proud of you no matter what." She said, and shrugged. "Even if you don't turn up with a girlfriend."

Jake gave a non-committal response and continued.

"My mum likes peppermint tea, and she'll expect you to get her a gift the first time you meet her, but don't worry, I won't make you pay for-"

"No, it's fine. It's just tea. I can get it."

"You don't _have_ to-"

"It's just tea, Jake," Amy repeated herself. "Seriously."

"Okay... thanks. That's nice of you."

_Peppermint tea. Gift._

"I know."

"Uh, you're not supposed to say 'I know' when someone compliments you."

"So what else?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

"Definitely no suits like the ones you're wearing now... and she likes the outdoors. She has tons of bangles and bracelets - she's a bit of a hippie - and she thinks knitting is a waste of time. But she's also not that into the Internet. She thinks it's stealing our souls from the real world."

_No pant suits. Outdoors - love. Bangles and bracelets. Hippie. Hates knitting. Not into the Internet. Thinks it's stealing souls from real world._

"I can't believe she hates knitting," Amy commented, reading her list. "It's so therapeutic. How can anyone possibly hate knitting?"

"No idea," Jake shrugged. "Oh, and she has this theory that the perfect girlfriend for me would be a highly feminine woman who wears dresses all the time-"

"-yeah, you've mentioned that-"

"-and is gentle and knows ballet. She will have read some classics, and she's definitely not into magazines like _Guns and Ammo_."

Amy's eyes lit up.

"Classics! I've read _all_ of Jane Austen's work. And I've read 'Jane Eyre' thrice - in high school - because I loved it so much," she chirped. "It's on my Top 3. Charlotte Bronte has this way of making it so-"

"Where'd you get so much time? I didn't even have enough to finish my stupid History essays."

"Everyone was at parties and stuff, duh." Amy looked at him like he was stupid. "And... seriously? You were a History student? You don't look like you're very much into... _reading_. Or writing essays. Or doing anything, for the matter."

"I hated the essays. I used to just type the first paragraph and the last one, and then copy chunks of text off Wikipedia for all the stuff in the middle. Still managed to pull off a 60% at the end of the year."

Amy cringed internally at the thought of getting a 60% on a paper, and Jake snapped back to reality.

"Okay," he said. "No more talking of my stupid high school days. We've not bonded enough for you to know this much."

"Fine."

"My girlfriend is laid-back and likes to surf. It's mandatory that she knows how to follow recipes more complicated than the one about making pancakes."

"This is quite a backwards way of categorising women," she said, jotting down her fake persona. He nodded in agreement.

"Jake's girlfriend does not swear, and doesn't smoke."

"Okay."

_Is gentle. Does ballet. Read most of classics. Laid-back. Surfs. Cooks. No swearing, no smoking._

"You know, I'm kind of glad Rosa didn't volunteer to be my pretend girlfriend," Jake thought out loud.

"Your mum would have a heart attack," Amy agreed, laughing lightly. "Anyway, is there any sort of conversation topic I should avoid?"

"Good thinking," he pointed out. "Uh... my dad, obviously."

She wrote that down.

"And using plastic bags instead of bringing your own bag to the supermarket."

"What?"

"Using plastic bags in-"

"No, no. I heard you. My 'what?' was the response," she said, her hand now frantically writing in an unbelievably quick pace.

"I told you. She's a bit obsessed with the environment, so..." he trailed off.

"Anything else?"

"This fake girlfriend will know how to make small talk, and like I said, she is laid-back, so she isn't awkward. She _isn't_ a cop. She's more like a piano teacher, because she has a qualification for Grade 8 piano."

"I know how to play the piano," Amy said suddenly. "I'm not a quitter, but it actually made my mum so miserable that she made me quit after Grade 6."

"How on earth would playing the piano make your mum miserable?"

"I insisted on practising for two and a half hours every day until she couldn't take it anymore," she said bluntly.

Jake boggled. "_Two and a half hours?_ Again, how do you even have so much time on your hands?"

"Oh, no. That wasn't in high school. I was only in middle school then."

"And you were _already_ doing Grade 6 piano? Your parents must've been the kind to push you really hard."

"Again... _no_," she said, sounding almost sheepish. "I actually asked them for piano lessons. And I played it day and night until I got blisters on my fingers."

"_Played it day and night until I got blisters on my fingers_ \- name of your sex tape," he said automatically. "Anyway, that's weird. Because you don't seem like a musical person to me."

"I'm not, and I wasn't then," she agreed honestly. "I just wanted the satisfaction of telling people I was good at playing the piano."

"That's _so_ Amy Santiago," he said, and they both chuckled softly.

"What else?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"About your mum."

"Oh," he blinked. "One more thing: I know you like to have your hair up at work, but try to keep your hair down this weekend. It's more graceful that way."

She jotted his words, scanned her list and let out a flustered sigh. "Wow. Looking at all these targets... I would say I have hit about half of them," she commented under her breath, mumbling to herself. "The other half? Never happening in a million years."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed. "That's why you're not my girlfriend. My mum might kill herself if she ever sees you romantically involved with me."

"Well, I _do_ have some of these good qualities."

"But you don't have all of them."

"That's a bit extreme."

"No, I'm being serious," he looked at her square in the eye, and she looked away. "Anyway, meeting adjourned. Holt said we could leave early today so I'm going to go now."

"What?" She looked startled. "What about all the paperwork th-"

"Everyone is leaving early, Ames. Don't worry about it."

She looked unconvinced, but she nodded, closing her notebook and getting up as he did.

"I'll pick you up at 12, and we'll go to the airport. Flight's at 1," Jake said, and Amy was surprised at how organised he seemed for the first time in his life.

Before she could utter an 'okay', he slipped out of the break room. From the open blinds on the window, she could see him throwing in his badge into his duffel bag while whistling, and she watched him leave until the elevator doors closed.

* * *

**2:30PM**

"Jake," Amy whispered, tapping him on the shoulder awkwardly. They were sitting in a cramped aircraft with minimal legroom, and she was squashed in a window seat, while he sat between her and another man, who was reading a book quietly. He was taking a nap and he had made no response, so she tapped him again, this time a little more urgently. "Jake. _Peralta_. Jake Peralta," she hissed, poking at him until he twitched and opened his eyes.

"Mm- what?" he murmured, still half asleep, groggy.

"I need to use the toilet," she whispered, gesturing for him to put his legs up so she could get out. "Scoot."

He tucked his knees into his arms and she slid out into the aisle with her cosmetic bag in one hand, heading to the toilet located at the end of the plane. She went into a cubicle, locked the door, and looked at her own reflection in the mirror. She felt funny, slightly disoriented, but mostly just nervous. She would be spending four days somewhere completely foreign - she had never been to Nebraska - and she would be doing that with people she barely knew. She wasn't sure she was ready for a challenge like that.

She washed her face and her make-up off gently, and looked at herself in the mirror again. Bare-faced Amy was tired and underprepared, reflecting how she felt on the inside. But she needed to put on a good show. She didn't want to let anyone down, and Jake was right - it was Christmas Eve after all. After moments of self-doubt, she redid her makeup quickly, drawing in her eyeliner and opting for a light pink lipstick. Taking out a comb, she sorted out any uneven tangles and tucked her hair behind her ears. When she was done, she looked at herself and took a deep breath, then grinned as wide as she could.

"Stop worrying, Amy Santiago. You're going to have fun. So much fun. And you're going to do a good job."

* * *

**4:45PM**

"We're nearly there," Jake told Amy from the backseat of a cab. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it could break out of her chest. Why was she so nervous? It wasn't like they were _really_ dating, and it wasn't like she was ever going to see Jake's mum again after these four days. It shouldn't matter, but somehow, it mattered a lot. She needed to put on a convincing show because she needed to be capable. She needed to be in control of herself.

"Can we have one more quick run-through?" she squeaked, feeling worried. Her voice was coming out funny.

"We've had like five run-throughs on the plane," he said, looking at her.

"But maybe we didn't cover _all_ the situations... like, what if your mum suddenly decides that she doesn't like peppermint tea anymore and she yells at me? Quick, throw me a scenario."

"No, Amy. She's never going to stop loving peppermint tea. Relax! It's just the few of us there. We're super chill. You're getting so worked up over nothing," he said, but she looked frightened still. "Seriously. You're going to be okay," he reassured her once more. He put his hand on hers and squeezed, and for the first time, she let him, not flicking it away or looking at him in disgust.

"Okay," she said. She wasn't sold on the whole idea, still, but she did feel slightly better. She looked at him suspiciously. "Why are you being so nice to me, Peralta?"

"Because you're helping me out _big time_ by lying to my mum about me being romantically successful," he said.

* * *

**5:15PM**

"Jake, you stay in your room, and Amy... I'm sorry, I didn't know he was going to be bringing a girlfriend this year - he never does," Julie chuckled warmly. "You don't mind staying in Jake's room, do you?" she looked at Amy cheekily, and she smiled back awkwardly.

After a warm round of introductions, they were carrying their bags upstairs, and to Amy's surprise, there were only three rooms, and no guest bedroom. There wasn't an attic either, and according to Jake, the basement was filled with spiders and 'creepy things'.

"I uh-"

"The walls are thick, so you kids can do whatever you want," she laughed, and Jake felt like he had just been punched in the throat.

"_Mum!_"

"Oh Jake, we're all grown-ups here. I'm pretty sure you guys do sleep together. And Amy is so gorgeous! I don't think there's any reason for you not to tap that. _I'd_ tap that if I were you."

"Mum, this is totally inappropriate, and I kind of need you to stop talking and leave now," Jake said, and Amy slid him a glance, to which he responded with an eye-roll.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm going to go back downstairs. Your sister called earlier on. She's going to arrive in an hour." Julie said, dropping their bags and waving a hand dismissively. "You kids figure this out, okay? And maybe unpack a bit of whatever you've brought. Supper is at 7 so you've got some time. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, mum."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, by the way," Julie said to Amy, and Amy smiled.

"Pleasure's all mine."

Julie nodded, and they watched as she disappeared down the stairs. They exchanged a look. He held his breath, and she burst out laughing after a moment of lingering silence.

"_Wow_," Amy said, raising an eyebrow, and he nodded, as if to say '_I know_'. "Your mum's... she's really something."

"Tell me about it. And... I'm sorry. It's just always so awkward when she's around because she's mentally stuck in high school, and she makes all these inappropriate jokes," Jake said apologetically, and she looked at him.

"She's fun. I can see where you got your personality from," she commented, and he huffed.

"Yeah... _right_. Fun, okay. I can live with that." Jake said. "It's just... honestly, if she makes you uncomfortable or anything, you should tell me because I _swear_, this you see?" he gestured at himself. "The inappropriateness of _this_ is only a fraction of the inappropriateness of _that_. She has a lot of fuel in her. Seriously. I love her, but the woman just never stops. And sometimes she crosses lines. She nearly scared my sister's boyfriend away the first time they met."

"What happened?"

"She basically told him all about how she wants five grandkids in seven years, and how she wants them to live next to her. She was completely joking, but he was already so nervous because he was meeting her for the first time, he just freaked out."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah. He found out about it later on but we still laugh about it. So if my mum ever tells you she wants five grandkids in seven years and all of that, just know that she's joking. She did it to my sister's first boyfriend, my high school girlfriend, and she basically will do it to anyone she meets. Don't let that freak you out."

"To be entirely truthful... I don't think any of this will be a problem," Amy said, and he cocked his head sideways, wondering what she meant by that. She looked up to meet his eyes, and grinning, she picked up her small suitcase. "I think she's _awesome_."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Wrote and uploaded this at 4AM last night. Woke up and realised it's laced with typos. Fixed them real quick! Sorry you had to subject your eyes to that mess. xo**

* * *

**24 December, 6:35PM**

Amy smoothed her dress one more time and looked at herself in the mirror, then at her watch. It was exactly 6:35, and she was all ready to go downstairs, with a whooping twenty-five minutes to spare. She decided she was going for the simple yet classy look. She was wearing a simple sheath dress in a bright emerald colour, her hair down and combed, tucked behind her ears to look neat. She kept her makeup to a minimum, just a dabble of perfume, and jumped when she noticed Jake pop his head around the corner of the bathroom from the reflection on the mirror.

"Hey, my sister arrived five minutes ago, do you want to go downstairs and say hi?" he asked, walking in. "Just kidding. Not a question. Let's go." He went to grab her by the wrist, but stopped when he noticed her watch. "Don't wear that."

"Why not?" she argued, frowning. "I always wear my watch. How are you supposed to know what time it is-"

He looked at her impatiently and she shrugged, slipping it off her wrist.

"Fine."

"Thanks," he said. "If it makes you feel better, like you have the upperhand, we can peek at them from upstairs first."

She nodded, grateful and relieved that he had considered this option, and they leaned out from against the railing, peering down onto the landing of the first floor discreetly. She could see Julie fussing over what must be Jake's sister, and a man standing next to the both of them, a hand on a suitcase. Amy identified him as her husband.

While she was looking down, in deep thought, trying to figure them out from far away, Jake was looking at her closely, almost as if he was observing her.

"You look pretty," he said nonchalantly, and cleared his throat. She could tell from his tone that he was genuinely trying to be nice, and she tried to hide her smile, mumbling a quick 'thanks' before he suggested they went downstairs. She nodded, and as they were making their way down the flight of stairs that seemed to stretch on for quite a bit, she clung to his forearm awkwardly, feeling insecure and nervous. She did it as a sort of reflex, and even though she knew that, she was glad she did. She felt better when she was holding onto something.

"You're wearing shoes," he stated the obvious in a whisper as they walked into the living room, where his mum was still fussing over his sister as though she were a child. She was commenting on her wedding ring and how great it looked. Jake looked at Amy's black patent flats, then at her face. They stood in the doorway quietly, waiting to be noticed.

"Well, I can't walk around bare feet. That's rude," she whispered back.

"That's not true, you're wearing tights," he said, keeping his voice down. "And people are _supposed_ to walk around bare feet inside a house. That's the whole point of living in a house."

"Inside _their_ houses, that they _live in_," she corrected him quietly. "This isn't my house, and I don't live here. I'm a guest."

"Fine," he said. "But-"

"Jake!" A tender voice yelled out, which stopped the hushed squabbling between the two of them. He looked up, and beamed at his sister.

"Allie!"

Amy dropped her arm and let go of him when he leaned in for a hug with Allie, high-fiving his brother-in-law mid-hug. He let go, and he was beaming so hard that it nearly broke his jaw. Julie smiled at the sight of her children reuniting and vanished in the background to the kitchen, where a strong smell of baked ham and thick pasta drifted around.

"Yo, Jake! Hope everything's been kosher," Allie's husband grinned, and Jake nodded.

"Everything's been awesome. You?"

"Never been better."

"Would've guessed. You look real happy," Jake said to him, and Allie raised an eyebrow, gesturing at Amy.

"Who's that pretty girl standing there behind you? Come on, Jake. Introduce us. She's too pretty to be on her own, being ignored."

"Oh, yeah. Of course," Jake said, stepping back. Amy gulped, raising a hand to say hello, smiling in a way that even she knew was painfully awkward.

"Hey! Sorry for that," Allie laughed, coming in strong with a hug, squeezing Amy a little tighter than she had anticipated. But it was a nice, warm hug, not suffocating like she thought it would've been when she watched her hug Jake earlier on. "I'm Alison, but as you would've figured out, nobody calls me that. I'm just Allie around family and friends. By the way, your dress looks _amazing_."

Overwhelmed, Amy blinked. "Oh! Thanks. Um, I fluctuate between a size 4 and 6, so..." she paused, the vowel dangling in the air. "Sorry - no. Why did I say that?"

Allie laughed. "Don't be nervous..." she paused, not having gotten her name.

"Amy," Amy managed, giving Allie a smile.

"Amy," Allie repeated. "That's a similar name to Allie, which, we've discussed the first time Josh came over six years ago, how similar his name was to Jake's. I mean, sort of. I guess at the end of the day, we all pick people with names similar to our siblings' because we feel more secure with them." Amy looked confused and a little frightened, and Allie quickly filled in. "Though Mum's probably been torturing you all afternoon, so I understand why you'd be on full freak-out mode. Josh was like that the first time he was here. It's been so long, and we're married now, so he's completely fine. Sometimes I think he's closer to Mum than I am. Ridiculous, right?"

Amy nodded stiffly. She wasn't trying to be rude. She was still just reeling in from her anxiousness.

Josh, a tall man who looked like he was at least six foot one, handsome, with blond hair and fair skin, extended a hand to shake Amy's, and she took it.

"Joshua, but please, call me Josh," he said, and she smiled at him. "Not to be antisocial, but I think dinner's nearly ready, so I'm going to run upstairs real quick to put this down." He gestured at their suitcase, and Allie nodded. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and went upstairs.

"So, how come you've never talked to me about Amy before?" Curious, Allie asked Jake, nudging him on the shoulder.

"It's complicated," Jake said, sounding slightly sheepish.

Allie's eyes widened, and a playful grin appeared on her face. "Oh, but isn't that what they all say when it comes to love? I never believed that anyway."

"Well, it _is_," he replied bluntly.

"How did you guys meet?" Allie ignored him and turned to Amy, who was caught off-guard with a question like that. She froze, not knowing how to answer. She liked Allie, and she wanted to kick Jake in the shin for not running over _all_ the possible scenarios that could come up. Like this one, for instance.

Meanwhile, Josh had scooted back downstairs.

She looked at him, and took a deep breath. It was only his sister and his brother-in-law. Maybe she should come clean. That would be two less people to put an act in front of.

"Well, to tell you the truth, Jake and I aren't really-" Amy began, but he cut her off promptly. She thought she had said something wrong, but he had done so only to reaffirm her statement. He was agreeing with her.

"Allie, the truth is that Amy isn't my girlfriend. That's why it's complicated," Jake said quietly, careful not to let his mother overhear him. She was in the kitchen, but still.

Allie frowned and slid her arm around Josh's waist. "What do you mean?"

"Jake asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend because he told Julie that he was bringing somebody in a spur of the moment," Amy explained, and Allie nodded. "And I work at the precinct with him-"

"You're a cop too?" Josh asked casually, and Allie shushed him.

"Well, a detective, to be precise," Amy corrected him softly, and it was then that Julie stuck her head around the kitchen door. The four of them froze, thinking they had been busted already.

"Josh! Jake's not a cop, he's a detective," she said, shaking her head, feigning disappointment before she went back inside.

Allie gave Josh a look, and he looked embarrassed.

"Sorry."

"So that's the story," Jake said. "I just needed to let mum know that I'm romantically successful for once in my life. You know how much she wants to see... stuff like that. And I thought I could do it as a Christmas surprise, or whatever."

"Well, Amy can't play along forever," Allie said. She didn't sound angry, nor did she intend for her words to be laced with malice; she was just dishing it out like it was. And it was true. He could fake it this Christmas, and he could possibly fake it the next, but he couldn't do it forever.

"I just thought I would buy time, or at least to shake things up a bit this year."

"Fair enough," Josh said. "But sooner or later, you guys are going to fall in love and it'll be the real deal. Just like Allie and I - she brought me home for Christmas as a fake boyfriend-" he lifted his hand to show his wedding ring, "-and now we're married, for real."

Allie laughed and pinched him on the shoulder, and he shrugged away, grinning. "He's joking."

Amy smiled wistfully, looking at them, and turned to look at Jake, before looking away again before he could meet her eye.

"I just wanted you guys to know," Jake said.

"So we could lie to mum together?" Allie asked.

"It's not like that-"

"I know. I'm just joking. I got it. We'll play along. Do what you have to do," she said, giving him a wink. She turned to Amy. "If I'm being honest, you're too pretty to really be Jake's girlfriend anyway. You're way out of his league, and you should stay there, out of his reach. My baby brother may be clever, but he is mostly just immature and lazy; you don't want to get with the guy living under a bridge when you can land Brad Pitt."

Jake rolled his eyes. "I can hear you, Allie."

"Good."

* * *

**8:40PM**

The plates had been cleared away right after dinner - Amy had offered to help, but Allie had turned her down politely, telling her to sit on the couch and watch some TV instead while they waited for the pie to be ready. She obliged, though she didn't feel like watching any TV. She had her mind on a case that she was working on, and to distract herself, she flipped through an issue of some magazine on the environment that she found on the coffee table. She was reading an article on corn production when Julie sat down next to her. She put a hand on her wrist and her bangles made jingling sounds at her every move.

"So, Amy... this sounds crazy, but I was thinking: you and Jake really look like a great match. And-" she caught herself in her thoughts. "How long have you guys been dating?"

"5 months?" Amy thought out loud, her brain hyper alert at all the lies she was about to spew.

"5 months," Julie mumbled to herself. "Thinking of marriage?"

"Oh, I don't know," Amy squeaked, trying to keep things as vague as possible. Sitting on a beanbag nearby, Jake looked up. He made eye contact with her, and she tried her best to talk to him telepathically, mostly with her just trying to ask him to come over and help.

"Well, I've always dreamed of, you know, having five brand new grandchildren in seven years," Julie smiled, and Amy stared at her, her mind fuzzy, before remembering Jake's words from earlier on in the afternoon.

_'If my mum ever tells you she wants five grandkids in seven years and all of that, just know that she's joking.'_

She smiled at Julie, and even though she knew it was a joke, she didn't know how to respond. She was relieved when Jake got up and walked over, beaming. She didn't know why he was grinning, but she was glad he was here; it meant that she didn't need to speak anymore. He could always fill in the blanks for her.

"Well, mum, you're in luck!" Jake blurted. "Because Amy's pregnant."

Amy's eyes widened, and she looked at him, as if to say - _'what the hell?'_ He returned her gaze with a confused expression, shrugging just slightly for her to notice.

"_You're pregnant?_" Julie looked at her, wide-eyed, in complete disbelief. Amy nodded automatically, knowing she had no other option. She had decided that jumping up from the couch and yelling 'SIKE!' wouldn't be the best thing to do in this situation. Or in any situation at all.

"Oh! Oh my god. Wow. Congratulations... Amy. Why, I wasn't expecting that. How far along are you?" Julie was suddenly looking at Amy's stomach, which made her feel more self-conscious than ever. "Can I-" she extended a hand.

"Oh, um," Amy frowned, and realised that Julie had wanted to put a hand on her stomach. Which made sense. This non-existent embryo, was, in theory, her grandchild. "Yeah... sure."

Julie put a hand on Amy's stomach, and then kept quiet, waiting for some sort of movement.

"Mum you won't feel anything. It's only been a month and a half," Jake answered for her, and Amy pursed her lips, nodding along. "This thing is the size of a peanut right now." Julie nodded once, still completely astonished, and got up from the couch, saying, "I need to tell Allie about this, she could learn a thing or two from you guys!" She left the living room with a grin on her face, leaving Jake and Amy alone with each other.

Amy felt her cheeks heat up, and her hands felt clammy. She looked up at Jake, who wiped a sweat from his brow.

"We're safe," he said, and she kicked him in the shin, this time for real, and hard. "_Ow_! What'd you do that for?"

"You _know_ what I did that for! I can't _believe_ you said I was pregnant!"

"Well, my brain was confused! So I just blurted out something. I had to."

"This girlfriend's stuff is pretty mild and fine by me, but I have my limits, and you're taking this too far."

"No, I'm not," Jake argued, but he knew she was right.

"We're never going to pull this one off convincingly! Don't you know when to stop? Where is your self-control? Don't even get me started on how I can't even drink alcohol for the rest of the holiday now... _t__hanks a lot, Peralta_," she spat the words out through gritted teeth, before getting up from the couch, too. She was fuming, and she needed to get away.

"Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing her by the wrist gently, not wanting to hurt her in case she slid off balance. It was as if he had started believing she was pregnant too. He sounded worried, but she ignored his plea to stay, jerking her wrist away from him, breaking free.

"Upstairs. I'm going to bed," she snapped. "Don't follow me." She ordered, and hopped up the stairs without turning back.

Jake frowned, feeling a surge of annoyance in his chest. Not at her, but at himself. He knew he had taken it too far. But he had seen the look in his mother's eyes when he had declared that Amy was 'pregnant'. She had lit up, amidst her initial confusion, and any blind idiot could've recognised that as a sign of hope. His mother had never looked so happy, and he didn't want to take that from her by breaking it to her that he was only joking. But on the other hand, Amy...

Jake stared at the bottom of the stairs, where Amy had been just moments ago, before he heard a door slam shut upstairs. Julie stuck her head out of the kitchen, where there was loud festive music playing now - Allie's idea - and she looked at Jake.

"I just told your sister about it. She's elated, but she keeps saying kids aren't for her," Julie said. "Which doesn't matter. I mean, her body, her decision. She's too stubborn for me to do anything about it anyway. I'm just happy that-" she eyed the empty couch. "Where did Amy go?"

"Just... upstairs." Jake said, rubbing his hand on his eye. "She's a bit tired. She's, uh, she's sorry she can't try the pie."

"Oh, that's fine," Julie said. "Poor thing. Must be worn out from all the traveling. I remember how I felt when I was pregnant and going on trips. It's so tiring. Tell her good night when you go upstairs later, okay? And tell her not to worry about missing the pie," she said, before sticking her head back in.

"Yeah, I will," Jake nodded, mumbling to himself. He looked down at his bare feet. He heard the water running - he imagined that to be Amy washing her face. It stopped, and he craned his neck to hear a sound, but there was only a creak of the bed after a few minutes, and then there was silence. He sighed. He knew it was too late to apologise, and that apologising wouldn't get them out of this situation anyway, but he still needed to do it for being such an overall, inconsiderate jerk.

* * *

**25 December, 12:55AM**

Jake stepped out of the bathroom quietly, rubbing a towel on his scalp to dry his hair. He scrunched the towel up in a ball and threw it in the laundry basket after he was done and closed the bathroom door, leaving the light on. He didn't like to turn off his bathroom light, and he had had that habit since childhood, because the little slit under the door allowed just enough light to seep into his room at night, and somehow, that gave him a sense of security. He was about to reach for a sheet to lay down on the floor, where he was going to spend the next few nights sleeping on, when he accidentally bumped into an old action figure. It toppled over and made a crashing noise.

Amy made a gentle purring sound in her half-asleep consciousness and she dragged the duvet up to her chin, curling into a ball as she repositioned herself. He watched her until she was still again, the soft sounds of breathing filling the room in steady rise and falls. He heard his heart beat loudly, and when he was sure she was asleep again, he grabbed a random sheet and a wool blanket.

He walked over to the side of his bed, where he set the sheet down and dropped the wool blanket. He leaned out to grab a cushion from the end of his bed to use as his pillow, and he dropped that on the floor, too. He went over to lock the door, should his mother barge in in the morning to wake them up and discover they had not been sleeping together. That would give everything away immediately. He knocked over another one of his action figures when he shuffled back to his makeshift bed, which made another loud noise as it toppled over, waking Amy up this time.

"_Shit,_" she heard him whisper, and she opened her eyes wide, careful not to move, not to make a sound. Suddenly, she didn't feel that sleepy anymore. It was just one of those moments when you woke up in the middle of the night and felt truly awake. He stared at the blurry outline of his fallen action figure and cursed Past Jake for leaving his stuff everywhere, before he slid under the wool blanket, deciding that it would keep him warm enough with the help of his radiator on maximum temperature. His bed was low, and as he turned sideways uncomfortably, lying on the hardwood floor, he caught himself staring at the back of her head.

He cleared his throat and scratched his chin, before switching positions to lie flat on his back, his hands resting on his stomach. She fidgeted, and he heard the rustles of the duvet.

"Amy?" he called out quietly, and she kept still, trying to keep her breathing steady.

Silence.

"Are you awake?"

Silence.

It made sense that she wasn't. It had been hours since she had gone to bed. She had to be deep asleep by now. Which spurred him to apologise to her now, when she couldn't hear him. Or so he thought, anyway.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, still keeping his voice low. "For... everything, I guess. For being a jerk and making you mad, for making up weird lies that are totally unnecessary, for... _stuff_." He paused. "And I was a jerk, which I've realised. And I know this sounds kind of stupid, but I thought you looked great tonight, and I didn't even get to say that to you properly. I mean, I know I said you were pretty, but I thought you were more than that... I thought you were..." he hesitated. "Never mind. This is embarrassing, even when you're asleep. Which is why I never compliment you, because I'd give off the wrong vibe, and you'd just get a kick out of it. I mean, you'd ask why I never say anything nice now, and that'd be my answer."

"Charles said that once, actually. He asked me, 'what would be the worst that could happen, Jake?' And I just said to him, 'Charles, she would hear me.' That made him laugh."

He paused, and in the dark, Amy smiled. _Typical Jake_, she thought.

"Anyway. I know you'd tell me that apologising when you're unconscious doesn't count, but you'd laugh in my face if I said any of this to you tomorrow. So I was just going to do it now, which I've done. Um," he stopped for a moment, and Amy held her breath. "Merry Christmas, I guess. I hope you're dreaming of cute dogs humping each other. Or whatever."

She waited for him to continue, but it seemed that he was done speaking, and the silence was eating her up.

"That last part kind of ruined everything," she whispered, and squeezed her eyes shut cheekily, in anticipation of his response, which she was certain would be awkward and uncomfortable. She was correct.

"Oh God, you're awake," he mumbled quickly, his words tripping over each other. "This is a nightmare. Just pretend you didn't hear anything."

"I heard everything," she said quietly, and he thought he could hear her smirk, but maybe he had dreamed that up. "But I'm going to pretend I didn't."

"Thank you. Respect." He hesitated. "Okay, bye."

"Bye."

He heard her move slightly, shifting, before everything went silent again, and he drifted off to sleep himself, feeling less embarrassed than he had thought he would be. In a way, he was glad she had heard that. It was painfully awkward, but he had to say, it was a great speech. One of the best he had ever given. Plus, this meant that he could go to sleep peacefully tonight, knowing he wouldn't need to apologise again in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: After two quick chapters, the updates are going to have to slow down again. I was just about to say that I finally had time off to write, AND THEN COLLEGE RESUMED. I had a 2 and a half hour Chemistry class today and I honestly feel like I am beginning to die on the inside. LET ME LIVE.  
**

**On another note, I've finally finished editing. Aaaand it's midnight. I'm gonna put this up now, and then I'm gonna fling myself onto my bed because I can no longer deal with this day. ****I hope you enjoy this chapter! Good night.**

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**25 December, 7:30AM**

The sound of the morning alarm filled the room, and Jake opened his eyes. He felt groggy, and his neck felt weird He flipped sideways and buried his head into the pillow. It was pitch black, and silent except for the horrible beeping noise that just wouldn't stop. He stuck an arm out and it hit the frame of his bed, reminding him that he had been sleeping on the hardwood floor the night before, and all about the 'great speech' he had delivered last night. Still reeling from embarrassment, he retracted his arm and tucked himself back in. He could hear shuffling, before the sound of a hand slamming onto the snooze button. Amy's.

She cleared her throat.

"I think," she said, sliding off the bed from the other side, "it's time to get up."

"What time is it?" Jake asked, his eyes still closed, with no intention of carrying out what she had just said.

"7:31." She read from the clock, combing her hair. She put down her brush and grabbed a towel from the shelf nearby.

"AM?"

"Well."

He couldn't see her, but he knew the exact expression he was pulling. The annoyed, irritated glance she had always used with him.

"This is too early," he whined. "I have never woken up this early in my life, ever."

She looked at him, appalled.

"_Ever?_"

"Ever," he mumbled. She ignored him and opened the door to the bathroom. A bright stream of light poured into the bedroom. He shrieked like a banshee, and she nearly dropped her towel. "Close the door! Close. The. _Door_!" he said with urgency, and she rolled her eyes, letting the door stay open for just a while longer to irritate him while he sneaked under his blanket, shielding his head from the light. "I'm trying to sleep here."

"Well, tough. I'm going to shower, and I'm going to make as much noise as I possibly can," Amy said, looking at him indifferently, who was just a lump on the floor now.

"'_I'm Going To Make As Much Noise As I Possibly Can_' - name of your sex tape," Jake called out, and she took this as a cue to leave him alone. She closed the door, clicking it shut with a lock.

* * *

**8:45AM**

"Quick, do I look okay?" Amy asked Jake, this time with her sticking her head around the bathroom door. He was washing his face, and she waited for him to look up. He did, and he squinted, looking at her from the reflection in the mirror like she was a speck of dust on a lens.

"Yeah," he said without a second's hesitation, proceeding to scrub foam cleanser on his face before turning on the tap to wash it off with the warm water again.

"'_Yeah'_? That's all you're going to say? Not even... I mean, you don't think this is too much?" she asked, pointing at her dress, which was in a rich shade of wine red. "And this?" She pointed to her mascara. "None of this is too much? Be honest."

He looked up again, this time turning around to get a better view. She looked immaculate, her look all prepped and polished, as always. He frowned, and she stared at him, before he shrugged casually.

"No, it looks fine," he said, and her heels caught his eye. "Don't wear the heels though."

"But you said-"

"But you're _pregnant_," he said, "or you're supposed to be. If my mum sees you wearing them, she'd make you take them off anyway. Trust me."

She was about to argue, but she took off her heels in the end, knowing he had a point. She was supposed to be pregnant.

"So I'm supposed to walk around bare feet?" she asked, feeling weird about abandoning her heels just by kicking them off to the side of the room. She felt compelled to pick them up and repack them in the shoebox she had brought with her (she kept all her shoeboxes, because she always thought they'd come in handy someday), or at least put them aside neatly. But a thought struck her. She was in Jake's house. There weren't any rules here - she knew that because he had always emphasised on this special style of upbringing when she talked about her own disciplined childhood. She could set her heels on fire for all she cared.

Okay, she wouldn't_ really. _They cost her half a grand, and even though she had never been big on footwear, she knew she had to own this very pair of heels the second she saw it in the shop window. She had been tired, worn out from staying late at the precinct once again. She remembered feeling irritated that she had to walk home - Jake had murdered the material of her shotgun seat by dropping his infamous powdered doughnuts everywhere, and she had to send her car to a garage to get it cleaned up professionally. Her heart was swelled up three times its usual size that night, with all the annoyance and disdain she harboured for him, when she saw the pair of heels sitting nicely inside a vintage shop window. They had caught her attention, and suddenly, her bitter anger had somehow managed to fade away almost entirely. She knew they wouldn't be cheap, but she was determined to come back the next day to get them anyway. And she did.

Though she would never tell Jake this story, because he would just brag about how in a way, she owed it all to him. That he was the cause of this whole string of events, and instead of thanking her lucky stars, she should have thanked him instead.

Amy smiled at her heels, zoned out, and she didn't snap out of her mind until he placed a palm directly in front of her face.

"As I was saying, you can wear the pair of slippers over there," he said, gesturing to a pair of brown slippers at the back of the room, something she hadn't noticed the night before. She walked over and slipped them on, staring at him as he hung his towel on the rack and stepped out. "_And_... we'd better head down for breakfast."

"Wh- what are you going to wear?" she asked as she eyed him suspiciously. He was in a T-shirt and sweats, and he shrugged. "_This?_ You're going to wear this?" she asked, feeling faint. "While I wear a dress and put on eyeliner and mascara and try so hard and-"

"Relax! It's okay. My sister will be doing what you're doing," he said, and then paused. "I think." She nodded, though not entirely trusting him. It had only been a day but things had been wholly unpredictable so far. They unlocked the door to go downstairs, but she stopped in her tracks.

"Wait - your mum's peppermint tea," she recalled, her eyes widening, before hurrying to her bag and taking out a brightly wrapped package, tied together immaculately with a golden ribbon.

"You didn't have to-" he started, but she cut him off.

"But I did anyway, because Santiagos are polite and good at picking gifts," she said, giving him a confident smile. "There. Finished your sentence for you."

"Hey, not cool! That's my signature move!" he complained, feigning annoyance, and they went downstairs, both of them in high spirits over the fact that it's Christmas Day.

* * *

**11:00AM**

After a hearty, homey breakfast and some gift-exchanging, Josh had suggested they went outside for a snowball fight, to which Jake responded positively and enthusiastically, running upstairs to put on a thick coat and some proper trousers. He dragged Julie along, telling her that it was 'going to be awesome' and cooing her to join the family fun until she eventually gave in and agreed to go outside. While everyone was busy wrapping up, Allie had been the only one to notice the look of dread on Amy's face as she looked at the snow, and then at her crisply ironed dress, and Allie laughed it off as she told the boys to have fun while she was to stay inside to have some 'girl time' with Amy.

Moments later, the two of them were perched on the edge of the couch with a hot mug of peppermint tea - Amy's gift - while they looked out the window to see a yelling Josh chasing a screeching Jake, with Julie laughing at the sight, holding out a camera to capture the moment. Amy smiled at their heartwarming immaturity, and Allie looked at her with a prompting curiosity.

"So are you really pregnant?" Allie asked, genuinely eager. "I mean, this is just what I heard, and I knew at once that I needed to ask you firsthand, because mum can be so dramatic sometimes-"

"No!" Amy said quickly. "No. I am... completely _un-pregnant_. Jake just blurted it out because 'his brain was confused' - those were his exact words, and now I don't even know how we're going to pull this one off."

Allie nodded, a strand of her brown hair falling in her face. She tucked it behind her ear.

"You and Jake, huh."

She had a look on her face that Amy didn't know how to interpret, so she just mumbled a 'yeah' in response, hoping Allie'd move on to another topic. But she didn't.

"You know, I was surprised when you told me you guys were only pretending," Allie continued. "Not to make you uncomfortable-"

"-no, don't worry-"

"-but I just thought you guys look... pretty good together. You are so natural and at ease with each other. And that's actually something that I really struggled with when I first met Josh," she said seriously. "We just... we were so completely out of sync with each other, even though we were so smitten. We were crazily chaotic, but also madly in love." She shrugged, sipping a mouthful of tea. "Just, you know, your average twenty-somethings." She loosened up and laughed.

"I think a lot of that co-ordination comes with working with each other," Amy replied before she could even think it through properly, and Allie nodded, nudging her to go on. Amy could see a look of sincerity on her face, so she decided to keep talking. "I think I've known Jake for a few years now, and just seeing each other day in, day out kind of gives you that ease that it may be hard to find with someone you, say, meet at a later time and go on a date."

"Yeah, I get where you're coming from. Josh was this guy working in the building across me, and the streets... the streets were so narrow. And I could see his cubicle from where I was sitting, behind these giant, glass windows, and he could see me from where he was sitting behind his own set of giant, glass windows, and... it's a bit like a modern love story, because one day we just looked at each other - we somehow managed to make eye contact - and it felt right. And we just knew. And we just wanted to know each other better."

"Wow," Amy said. "That's... I wish I had that meet-cute story to tell people. It's sweet."

"It is, but then it took ages for us to finally meet, still. And when we did, we didn't know what to say or how to act. We just felt weird and, like, we wanted the other person to feel the same way, but we were too awkward to actually put it to action."

"I can't imagine that. I mean, you're both so friendly." Amy said. "Unlike me, who is... kind of awkward all the time. To the point where I'm pretty sure I'll never find love because I'd just scare everyone away when they discover who I really am," she drifted off, but managed to catch herself. "So what happened?"

"No, you aren't. It's just the jitters," Allie reassured her. "And - yeah, me and Josh - with each other for the first few times, we just shut down. He had that effect on me. He still does," she said, eyeing Josh from the window for a few moments before turning back to Amy. "So, enough about my boring story. You seeing anyone? Or you have anyone in mind?"

"No, don't say that," Amy said, and pondered. "No. I don't think so, no."

"That's a shame."

"It's not. Not really. Love's not really my priority right now," Amy paused. "And I don't think it's ever been, to be honest."

"What's been your priority all this while?" Allie asked.

"My job, I guess."

"Makes sense. Jake says the same thing. I know he fools around a lot, but I can tell he loves his job a lot, too. I feel like you guys should just make a pact or something, so neither of you will end up alone."

It was a joke, dished out in a lighthearted manner, but it caused Amy to pause. She then gave a small, hollow laugh. "Me and Jake? No. We'd never-"

"No, you should never settle with him," Allie interrupted, worried she had given off the wrong vibe when she saw the look of confusion mixed with horror on Amy's face, "because he's such an immature man-child that he'd have you screaming at him to pick up his clothes off the floor. I know that, because as his big sister, I've lived through it all my life."

Amy chuckled, staring at her fingertips as they soaked in the heat from the ceramic mug, still not sure what to say, though not quite wanting their discussion to end just yet.

"How is he at work, though? I always try to be a caring sibling and ask about stuff like that, but he never tells me. He just makes up all these names for his co-workers and talk about them, but never about himself."

"He makes up names for his coworkers?" Amy asked, her eyes lighting up. She was interested in what Allie had to say about this topic, and interested to know what her nickname was in the Peralta family. What she was known for, and whether he spoke of her positively.

"Yeah. But I never know who is who, because he never gives me any real names."

"Hey," Amy said. "Fire away. I can piece them together for you."

Allie looked at her for a moment, and then grinned.

"Oh yeah. You're a detective. You're good at this. Well, Jake talks about his coworkers a lot, and I can tell he loves them like family... I try to put in effort to get to know everyone, but it's so difficult sometimes. I know Gina - we grew up together, so that even though he calls her all sorts of weird names, I'm able to link it back to her. And I know he calls the captain, well, The Captain, so that isn't a problem either. He calls someone 'Yoghurt'-"

"That's definitely Terry Jeffords. Sergeant." Amy pointed out, then smiled. "This is fun."

Allie nodded, and carried on.

"I do recall someone being called 'Leftover Chinese Food' and-"

"Scully. Or Hitchcock. Or maybe he's referring to the both of them - I don't know."

"The both of them, I think. He uses it as a term for two people," Allie said. "And I know there are three ladies at the precinct, one of them being Gina... and now, one of them being you. And one more dude. Now if I'd just figure out who's who..."

"Does he call anyone something like... The AK-47? The... raven? Falcon? Something dark and twisty, but also somewhat heroic and dominating?" Amy asked, but Allie shook her head. She thought harder. "What about something about fire? Or anger? Needing anger-management? Or... anything edgy - sharp? Weapon-related?"

"Oh yeah. There's one," Allie said, her eyes lighting up, too. "I think there's one called the... shotgun. Knife? The Dagger - that's it. The Dagger."

"That's Rosa! She's one of the detectives. She's awesome."

"Rosa," Allie echoed. "You're good at this. And, well - there's you. You are Detective..."

"Santiago," Amy filled in, and Allie looked at her in surprise.

"_You're _Santiago?"

Amy blinked.

"Well, yeah. Is there... something wrong?"

"Oh, no. Nothing's wrong. I'm just surprised. It's... well, I've always thought Detective Santiago was a man, from everything that Jake has said about him," Allie said, and then corrected herself. "Her. _You._"

"That's, um, that's Charles. Charles Boyle. The man you thought - yeah. I'm Santiago," Amy said, confused, her brow furrowing, wondering why he had not given her a nickname like he had done for everyone else. "What does Jake say about me?" She hoped she didn't sound too eager, and she hoped it wasn't anything bad.

"He just always complains about Santiago getting his paperwork done before him and being really good at arresting bad guys. He always said, _'Santiago did it again, out-Jaked me.'_" Allie said. "So naturally I assumed he was this alpha, extremely handsome and tall, capable man who was really good at getting his shit done and making him feel inferior... but now I know that I've been completely wrong. _This _is why I'm not a detective."

"Making him feel _inferior_?"

"Incompetent," Allie said, and when she saw Amy's worried expression, she smiled. "But don't fret. I've always secretly rooted for Santiago for making Jake work harder. He is clever, but he's so_ lazy_. He needed a good push once in a while, and Santiago always delivered. Plus now that I found out 'Santiago' is, in fact, a girl, I'm even happier. It makes everything _way _more awesome knowing my brother has been getting his ass kicked by a girl." She laughed, and Amy did, too.

"Girl power."

"Totally."

* * *

**5:00PM**

The rest of the day had been filled with a feast of a lunch, egg nog, pudding, and board games. Amy was still a little bit annoyed about not being able to drink, but managed to sneak in a couple of sips from Jake's glass whenever Julie turned around to busy herself with the festivities. He always protested - "Your saliva is disgusting!" - and he reasoned - "Watch it, Amy. You can get a little spacey... or loud. Or pervy. Any way, it's not a good look." But she gave him a death stare every time to remind him that it was his fault she couldn't have her own glass, and that silenced him. Allie and Josh were cosy, sitting on the carpet and sharing each end of a wool blanket as the four of them sat around the coffee table playing Scrabble - one of Amy's all-time favourites.

So far, Josh had won five games, Amy four, Allie two, and Jake, to nobody's surprise, none. He was appalled when he learned that Amy and his sister had bonded and become good friends, pretending to concentrate on aligning his tiles along the plastic holder while he eavesdropped on their girl-talk.

"Jake, it's your turn," Josh said, giving him a nudge on the arm. He looked up, and was met with three expectant faces, one of which was smirking - Amy.

"Uh, sure," Jake said, surveying the board, and then glancing at his tiles. They were at the part of the game when most spaces were filled, and you really had to think hard and long only to be able to form short, three, four lettered words. "Got it." He announced proudly as he picked up two tiles and placed them neatly.

"_CAT_," Allie read upside down, and shrugged. "Fair enough. Josh?"

It was finally his turn, and Josh grinned childishly. "Okay - get this." He picked up his tiles in a hurry and placed them on the board hurriedly, prodding them slightly to straighten it up afterwards. When he was done, he looked victorious. "Allie, your turn."

Jake looked at the board, and then at his brother-in-law. "What kind of a word is _tetrastyle_? How do you even know this? How does _anyone_ even know this?" he whined, eyeing each of them, feeling defeated as he felt a sense of defeat kick in again. He took two huge sips of his sherry, ignoring Amy's silent protests as she stared daggers at him by avoiding eye contact.

"You're having my part of the sherry," Amy whispered when he wouldn't look at her, hyper aware that Julie was sat on the couch, just a couple of feet away from them. She was chatting with a distant relative on the phone and she seemed to be in the zone, but she snapped out of it every so often, and glanced over at the group from time to time. Amy didn't want to risk letting her hear what she had just said. She had let her guard down a bit more now, but she still needed to put on a good show.

"Honey, you can't drink. You are pregnant, remember?" Jake said loudly as Julie looked over, and he smiled at his mother, pulling the glass of wine away from Amy in an exaggerated manner. Amy pinched him under the table discreetly, twisting his forearm, and a red mark appeared upon her letting go. He tried to keep his face neutral, but the second Julie looked away, he pulled a face. "_Ow. _You need to stop physically abusing me for helping you make the right decisions to a healthy embryo."

"I'm not even pregnant!" Amy hissed, annoyed with his childish behaviour. "I just want a drink."

"Hold it - you're not pregnant-" Jake said, and she cut him off.

"_Thank you._"

"-with _my _child," he finished his sentence, and her eyes boggled. "Darling, we haven't been physical for _months_!" he harped, clearly enjoying himself as he indulged in his Nicolas Cage voice. "Who is the _real_ father of your child? Pray tell. I need to head over to burn his house down, then beat the crap out of him."

Amy rolled her eyes. "_Nobody_. Nobody impregnated me."

"Aha!" Jake raised his voice, causing Allie to jump. She had been trying to focus on the game, but all she could hear was Jake and Amy squabbling, their wordplay bouncing off each other back and forth. It was like trying to keep an eye on the ball during a heated tennis match. "'_Nobody Impregnated Me'_ \- name of your sex tape, with guest star _Nobody_, who, for the record, impregnated you, because you forgot your birth control," he dished out smoothly, pleased with himself. She sighed, and he carried on. "And now the world knows, Ames. But that's okay. There's no shame, because I'm going to-"

"Jake, shut your gob! I'm trying to think," Allie interrupted him, giving him a pained look as she played with her tiles on one hand, her head propped up by her right arm. Amy couldn't help but notice that Allie, too, like her, was left-handed. She smiled to herself at the uncommon trait they shared. Allie carried on, her head still down as she tried to figure out what words she could make with the two _F_s on her hand. "You're so annoying sometimes. This is why you're single."

This remark was unflatteringly honest, and it left both Josh and Amy smirking on the opposite ends of the table.

"That hurt, but I'm going to pretend it didn't and just keep smiling," Jake said. He was no newbie to his sister's offhand comments. Most of the time, they were uncalled for, but in all honesty, he knew that however negative she portrayed him to be, she would always be the first to defend him should the same words come from someone else's mouth. _Sibling rivalry_, he guessed. _Or whatever._

"'_That Hurt, But I'm Going To Pretend It Didn't And Just Keep Smiling'_ \- name of your sex tape?" Josh wondered out loud and raised an eyebrow. He was quickly catching onto the bandwagon of inappropriate jokes.

"It _would_ be, if he had someone to make a sex tape with in the first place," Amy added, and they high-fived.

Jake rolled his eyes. "You guys are so immature."

"Coming from _you_," Allie mumbled, placing her tiles to form the word _TRAFFIC._

"Nice one," Josh said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. He turned to Amy.

"Oh, I've got this figured out," Amy grinned, putting her tiles down neatly and slowly, showcasing her word at the end. _RECOVERY._

"Impressive," Allie commented, and then looked at her brother. "Jake."

Jake looked at the board, and then at his tiles. He pondered for fifteen seconds and threw his hands up in the air. "I can't do this anymore. I quit. I eject myself from this game."

Josh scowled. "You can't do that."

"Yeah, I can. And I'm doing it right now," Jake said. "I'm the youngest here, so naturally, I have the smallest brain capacity because I haven't finished developing-"

"Hey," Amy looked at him. "I'm _four years_ younger than you."

"But you're mentally eighty-six, so you don't count," he brushed off, and instead of arguing, she let his comment slide.

"Fine," Allie said, picking up the wool blanket as she got up from the carpet. "But you're clearing up because you've lost nearly all the rounds."

"_Why? _Shouldn't _Amy_ clear up instead, because she's the oldest and wisest amongst us? Emphasis on _oldest_."

"No, Amy's going to hang out with me, because we haven't discussed Taylor Swift's new hairstyle and that conversation needs to happen right away." Allie said, reinforcing her authority as the elder sister. Jake obliged as he tried to pour the little tiles from the board into the bag. In doing so carelessly, he spilled everything onto the carpet, and the three of them stepped over the mess he made; Josh going upstairs, and the girls slinking into the study, chatting and whispering like teenagers.

Jake stared at the sliding doors that separated the living room and the study, wondering what the hell had happened in the afternoon that had caused the two of them to bond so quickly. He was good at solving cases, but he just couldn't figure this one out. He decided that he would never be able to comprehend the female brain, and then he decided that it didn't matter to him anyway. He was just glad that Amy was having a good time.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I HATE THIS DOC MANAGER. I spent ages writing the first half of this chapter and then when I clicked 'save' it redirected me to a random page and LOGGED ME OUT and everything was gone. This keeps happening to me and you'd think I know better by now, but I apparently do not. Then I spent fifteen minutes lying motionless on the carpet with my arms out at odd angles like the corpses you see at crime scenes, filled with bitterness and emptiness because life has lost all meaning. I just don't get why this website has to be so mean sometimes.**

**I also know I've been gone for a VERY long time, and that I'm a really bad person for doing this. I apologise whole-heartedly. March, being unforgiving, killed me. I could barely keep my head above water - just, like, in general.**

* * *

**25 December, 8:00PM**

"Amy, you stay away from the wine," Julie ordered as she caught Amy eyeing the bottle of wine eagerly. Her tone was warm but authoritative, the kind mothers knew best. Amy blinked, snapping out of hypnosis.

"You bet!" Amy responded enthusiastically, and Jake put a hand to his forehead out of second-hand embarrassment from her poor performance. _If she were going to put on an act, _he thought, _she could at least try a little harder._

They had spent a fair amount of time discussing Amy's pregnancy, to the point where the usually talkative Josh had piped down and voluntarily kept himself quiet. He had loose lips, and Allie warned him about that before they sat down. Amy had always known how to suck up to people, with Holt being the prime example, but it was different tonight. Jake could practically feel the tension radiating from her seat as she struggled with blatantly lying to Julie.

"So," Jake said as he turned to Julie, seizing the moment's silence as an opportunity to steer the conversation down another path, preferably one that required less lying. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, nothing much," Julie said, unsuspecting. "There's never much to do around here, especially with you and your sister out in the city, and your bastard father running away-"

"Mum," Allie cleared her throat, uncomfortable with what was to follow. Whenever Julie talked about their father, it was usually followed with a smashed plate or hurt feelings, and Allie, being the elder child, had always been the one to clean up the mess. Her mother claimed she was over it, but time and again, her actions had proved that she was nowhere near it.

Allie knew that her parents' relationship was complicated, and that people needed time to heal. She knew that her mother had always been more scared than she let on, and she didn't mind picking up the pieces. It wasn't Julie's fault that her husband decided to walk out on the family, leaving her to raise their children alone.

Throughout their childhood, she had been a great mother, despite being flawed. Allie and Jake had never felt like they lacked a parent, even though it was glaringly obvious that one side of the big double bed had always been empty. Julie worked two jobs and made dinner and tucked them in bed. She made sure their tests were signed and their homework was done. She checked their school bags and planners and brought them to the zoo over holidays. She worked tirelessly to make sure everything was always in order, and that they always had enough, and that they were happy most of the time.

Allie didn't want to talk about her father tonight. It was not that they had cut off all ties - she knew Jake still talked to him sometimes - but she liked it better when the family was just the three of them. Besides, with Amy here for the first time round, she wouldn't like to see her mother break down like that. First impressions stick. She'd much rather Julie smashed five plates next Christmas time.

"What have you been doing?" Jake went for a different approach.

"Well, I've been reading," Julie said, and Amy nodded. Amy loved reading. It was sensible, and it was informative. "And I've been learning about how things work... speaking of which - Josh?"

Joshed looked up from his plate, his cheek full of ham.

"I have a leaky faucet upstairs in the guest bathroom, and it's not urgent, but I've been hoping to get it fixed soon. I would get Jake to do this, but he's such a man child. He has no idea how to... perform _basic life tasks_. Is it okay if-"

"Of course," Josh said, while Jake rolled his eyes. "I'll get to it afterwards."

"I _do_ know how to perform 'basic life tasks'," Jake said. "And you never even use that bathroom."

"I don't, but sometimes I feel like I can hear the pipes dripping and it irritates me," Julie said. "And it's creepy. You try living alone in a family house for nearly ten months a year - see how you like it."

"Fine," Jake replied, defeated. "You win again."

"Amy," Julie said. Amy looked up.

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering... you've never actually told me what it is that you do."

Halfway through the day, Julie realised that she didn't actually _know_ anything about Amy. Sure, she liked her the second they met, and she knew she was Jake's girlfriend, and she knew she was smart and well-read and diligent. But she didn't know her as much as she'd like to. Amy was carrying her grandchild; she ought to know more about her.

Julie was also starting to get worried. At age sixty, she wondered if she was too young to be a grandmother, though she knew plenty of people who became grandmothers before they turned fifty-five. She had always nagged Allie about grandchildren, but when faced with the possibility of actually having one of her very own, she wasn't very sure. It had been a long while since she had raised her own children and turned them from sloppy teenagers into respectable adults, and she wasn't sure she was up for that task again this soon. Even though she knew she would damn well try, she wasn't sure she was going to be a good grandmother.

"Sorry- what do you mean-"

"What's your occupation?" Julie asked, and then wondered if she had sounded too harsh. "I'm sorry if I sounded... interrogative. I do like you. I think you're out of Jake's league, and I think he hit jackpot with his arm around your shoulder. But I'm going to be a grandmother, and... I just figured I don't really know much about you to begin with."

Amy paused, and she exchanged a look with Jake. A look that seemed to scream, _help me._

Jake took the hint. He was going to stall this conversation, and he prayed that Allie would think of something to change the topic soon.

"Mum, what do you mean Amy's out of my league?" Jake asked, pretending to be offended at the very thought.

Julie frowned, and shook her head. "Let's be real, Jake." Allie laughed, and Josh nearly choked on his peas.

"This is not funny; it's offensive. Why does everyone think Amy is above me?"

"_'Amy is Above Me_' - name of your sex tape," Julie said, and Jake cringed, while Amy was reminded of how laidback Julie was.

"Please don't talk about my sexual adventures at the dinner table," Jake said. "It's so inappropriate. I am your _son_. And where did you even learn that catchphrase? It's supposed to be something... _private_. More of an inside joke." He waved his hand in the air. "Never mind."

Ignoring him, Julie turned to Amy.

"So what is it that you do?"

Amy looked at Jake nervously, but he was silent. She kicked him under the table and he budged. She stared daggers at him.

_What do I say?_

He returned her gaze.

_Lie._

She frowned.

_How?_

He shrugged.

_Try._

He was useless, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. She took a deep breath. Here, she was not _Amy Santiago: detective, badass, crochet expert, owner of an impressive spoon collection. _Here, she was _Amy Santiago: hater of exposed toes and pantsuits, gentle ballerina, surfer, and pianist, with an unconditional love for Jake Peralta and other disgusting things. _She looked at Julie and smiled.

"I'm a piano teacher."

* * *

**10:30PM**

After a lengthy game of Bananagrams, Amy was beginning to feel her eyelids droop. She was aware that she had not taken a shower, which bothered her. She usually had finished brushing her teeth at this time, and she knew it was well early for an adult to be doing this on a regular basis, but she liked discipline. Plus, if she didn't make sure she brushed her teeth, she would just find herself nibbling on little snacks while typing up reports, which would lead to her being annoyed at her lack of self-control. Jake would laugh at her habits, so she was not going to tell him about it.

Jake tugged at her sleeve, and she looked at him. She could barely keep her eyes open. He seemed to know her intentions, like he had put a thumb-drive into her brain and illegally downloaded her thoughts.

"You're not supposed to sleep before midnight on Christmas Day," he said.

She looked at him and blinked.

"That's not a real rule."

"Well," he said. "It is. Under this roof."

"Give me a break, Peralta. I'm pregnant; I need to go to bed."

He looked thwarted, and for a moment, she gloated. Or she felt like gloating anyway. He got lucky; she didn't have the energy in her to rub it in his face at the very moment.

"You're not allowed to use that excuse. _Seriously. _Who goes to bed at 10:30? What are you, eight?"

"No," Amy replied, not batting an eye. "Because if I were 8, my bedtime would've been approximately two hours ago."

"Nerd."

That seemed to strike Amy the wrong way. She was used to little comments like these, from Jake, who always thought he was whip-smart. He had always thought he had 'killed it' with his wit. And she knew that his one-liners were never meant to be taken personally. They weren't meant to be offensive, and he wasn't malicious. But she was tired, and when she was tired, she was cranky.

Jake seemed to have sensed that she wasn't in the mood for his crude humour, and he toned it down with a half-smile. The reassuring kind.

"I'm... sorry. Please don't go."

She frowned. His sincerity made her rethink.

"I guess-"

"Come on, Amy. It's Christmas Day. It's 10:32. You can stay."

She looked undecided, before she finally gave in. She wasn't sure why he was feeling so chummy with her, but she thought those might just be the side-effects of the whole holiday vibe. Or maybe he was mildly drunk. Either way, she liked that.

Julie suggested they watch a movie, and even though Amy was tired, she felt ecstatic. She liked movies from the 80s. She was pretty sure she'd garner an offhand comment from Jake calling her a nerd for it, so she kept her mouth shut. Jake suggested watching something from Stephen King, and Allie looked at him, arching an eyebrow, which silenced him immediately.

Julie asked Amy what she wanted to watch, and Amy suggested The Breakfast Club. She loved the instant classic.

Julie beamed at the suggestion and got up from the couch promptly.

"I'm just going to the study to look for the DVD. I know I have it somewhere," she said, and her voice trailed off as she walked further away.

With Julie gone, there was an emptiness in the room, and being himself, Jake felt the need to break the silence, just because.

"Who did you identify with most in the film?" He asked, and turned to Amy expectantly.

"Well, if I were to be perfectly honest..."

"Which you should be," he interrupted. "Honesty - another household rule."

She ignored him.

"I'd say Brian."

Jake snorted, and Amy frowned.

"I have always pictured myself as Claire, even though I was never that popular in high school," Allie chimed in, blissfully unaware of the tension between her brother and his fake girlfriend.

"Me too," Josh said, and Allie looked at him with such an adoring gaze that Jake had to look away. He found his eyes on Amy once again, and he looked away from her, too. He decided to pick a random spot on the carpet and fixated on that instead.

"That's very sweet of you," Allie said, and there was a short silence in the room before Josh spoke up again.

"No," he said. "I mean, I pictured _me_ as Claire."

That made everyone laugh.

"I think I'm a blend of John and Andrew, but I'm obviously more charming than both of them combined," Jake said, looking up, and Amy rolled her eyes. "You guys will never get it."

Julie returned with a disc, and put it in the DVD slot swiftly. Amy rubbed her hands together in excitement. She didn't feel that tired anymore.

* * *

**26 December, 1:00AM**

Julie, abiding by the Peralta family rule of not sleeping before midnight on Christmas Day, went to bed at quarter past. Jake claimed that as 'cheating', but Julie only dismissed him with the shake of the back of her hand as she walked upstairs, telling him that, as his birthgiver, she could go to bed whenever she wanted without listening to his opinion. It made Amy laugh.

They ended up spending the next forty-five minutes chatting, and Amy taught Allie how to knit. They didn't have any knitting needles, nor yarn, but Amy thought that Allie had gotten the gist of it by watching her hand movements in the air. At least she hoped that she did.

At 1, everyone decided that it was best to go upstairs. Tomorrow would be a continuation of all the festivities, and Julie liked to wake up fairly early. She also liked waking the kids up the second she stepped off her bed, because it made her happy whenever she made breakfast for somebody who was not herself.

Jake flopped onto his giant double bed the second he walked into the room, to which Amy pulled a face of disgust. He looked behind his shoulder and noted her expression, and then proceeded to question it. She wondered out loud, why he had to project his body odour and general presence on a place she was going to sleep in later, and he told her that it was, after all, his own bed.

"I'm allowed to fling myself onto my bed," he said. "Besides, I smell wonderful at all times, so you have nothing to worry about."

"You really should try flinging yourself into the sun instead," she retorted, crossing her arms. She stifled a yawn by pursing her lips and waited until it had disappeared into her lungs, and he got up. "It would be much more helpful." The duvet now had creases, compared to its immaculate state just moments ago, and that bothered Amy.

Jake noticed her looking at the bed, and he laughed.

"What are _you_ laughing at?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"I was just laughing at how ridiculous it would be if we both just stripped naked and made a dive-"

"_No,_" she said, and he laughed again.

"I knew you'd say that."

* * *

**2:00AM**

An hour later, Amy was lying in bed in the dark, and she could hear the shower running. She saw light seeping into the room from the gap at the bottom of the bathroom door. Here was one thing that she appreciated - the fact that Jake always let her take a shower first. She didn't like coming into contact with a wet shower, right after someone had come out of it, and she had made it clear on their arriving plane ride. He had, since then, been surprisingly gentlemanly about this, to the point where she started to worry that the entire thing might just be an elaborate joke, someway, somehow.

She glanced to the left, where she noticed the alarm clock radiating a dim light. It was 2 in the morning, officially the 26th of December. She didn't feel like she was ready to return to the Precinct so soon. She had grown to enjoy staying here, in a foreign place, feeling refreshingly anonymous. She didn't have any faces to avoid here, because she didn't have any faces that she could recognise in the first place. It was true that she never went out (not properly anyway, like she might have done had she not had gotten along with his family so well) but she still felt good about the whole situation, even if it meant she wouldn't be able to sightsee.

Amy was surprised at how well this all turned out. She had pictured an entire family of Jake Peraltas - teasing her relentlessly - but so far, they had been nothing but gentle. In fact, most of the teasing had been directed at Jake, and they were usually targeted at his love life. Maybe this was why he was so obsessed with teasing her; the story always went like this: the victim had to become the bully in order to regain his false sense of authority.

She identified with Allie and she laughed at Julie's jokes. She thought Josh was cool, even though they never properly talked.

Amy knew she was probably never going to see them again for a while, if ever. She wasn't really Jake's girlfriend, and she wasn't really pregnant with his child. It was fun to make believe in the beginning, but then it got a bit too fun, and now she felt sad at the thought of saying goodbye. She even considered pretending to be Jake girlfriend forever, and perhaps adopting a random baby to make their stunt seem more convincing - but stopped herself when she heard the bathroom door unlock.

She decided that she over-thinking again. She needed to put her brain away and go to sleep.

Next to her, Jake shuffled into his makeshift bed. He tossed and turned for a minute and she closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence next to her, hearing his ragged breaths slow and smoothen.

* * *

**AN: Don't freak out, but I have a confession: I've merely skimmed over this entire thing, with squinted eyes. It's 2am, and my eyes are not a fan of proofreading, especially when it's like this, with small letters crammed together like sardines in a can. So maybe this chapter is littered with typos, maybe it's not; I hope it's not. This is irresponsible, and you have every right to be annoyed with me, if you've even made it this far into this author's note. Do people read these at all? OK. Stop it. It doesn't matter. I _will_ fix it by tomorrow. I promise. I'm so sorry.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I take back what I said about this being a short fic. **

**I wrote this right after I uploaded the last chapter but never summoned the energy to proofread it. And when I finally did, I did it at 2am while having a cold. And I fell asleep reading my own story. So there's that.**

**Here's to trying again.**

**Also: Thank you for your lovely comments/reviews! You rule.**

* * *

**26 December, 10:35AM**

Amy woke to a start, feeling groggy and disoriented, much unlike her usual self. She rolled over to sneak a peek at Jake, but found that his 'bed' was, strangely, empty. In fact, it was gone. Someone had picked up the pillows and the blanket and put them away - somewhere. _That can't be right_, she thought. _Jake never wakes up early. He usually just slept in, 'till... oh. Oh no._

She jerked up and reached for the alarm clock.

_10:35AM. 10:35AM? Oh, no. Oh, no, no. **No**. Why didn't her alarm go off?_

She had never jumped on the ground quicker, and when she surveyed the dark room with the curtains still closed, she found his pillow at the end of the bed. She tugged at her jacket and zipped up as she felt the morning chill creep into her tank top. (She had decided she was going to wear her hoodie jacket to bed. She knew nothing was going to happen between the two of them, but she didn't feel comfortable walking around wearing anything that didn't at least have sleeves.)

_Where the hell was Jake?_

She was murmuring to herself now, frantic. She knew it was a Saturday, and that you were _supposed_ to sleep in on a Saturday - it was a universal rule or something - but she never did. She didn't even do it at her own house, and now she had gone and done it at Jake's. On Boxing Day. Everything felt wrong and horrible. What if they thought she was rude for not coming down to breakfast? Hadn't Jake said something about that last night? That his mother liked to make sure her kids had a hearty breakfast, even her kids weren't actually kids anymore? Did Jake say anything to Julie about her sleeping in? Or did he just take photos of her drooling all over the pillow so he could plaster them all over the Precinct on Monday morning? She gave an inward groan at the thought.

Amy opened the curtains and squinted as sunlight streamed in. She paused, hands on her hips, eyeing the bathroom door.

She hadn't checked the bathroom.

Jake might be in there. Brushing his teeth. Washing his face. Singing along to Taylor Swift while he combed his hair. (She had actually witnessed that happening once, when the whole precinct had to go on a team-building trip somewhere out in the woods. He was spraying product in his hair while humming "22", and he didn't notice her standing behind him. When he finally did, it was too late; he had sung the chorus twice, and she had heard everything. She was impressed he was able to hit the high-notes - _who knew he had such a knack for them?_ \- but the whole thing was so amusing that it became a running gag for several months, until it finally died out when Charles spilled coffee all over his pants and everyone focused on that instead. Charles claimed that he had done it on purpose to lift the curse off Jake, but everyone knew that he was just being a klutz.)

Amy barged into the bathroom and scanned it quickly, but it was empty. And that was when she started to _really _panic. Hard.

She walked back to the bed and picked up her phone from the bedside table, yanking the cord to free it from the wire. She was hoping for a text from Jake, or maybe even several missed calls, but no one had reached out to her overnight. If he were her real boyfriend, she'd at least have gotten a text, because her real boyfriend would be smart, and responsible, and... and... _oh, bother. __Focus, Amy._

She thought about getting changed and going downstairs, but she felt embarrassed and awkward. She wasn't in her own house. She didn't really know these people that well. She didn't like the idea of walking in and interrupting their 'family time' - whatever they might be doing. She didn't want to have to feel weird about oversleeping and possibly having missed breakfast.

She also thought about simply going back to bed and waiting until someone shook her shoulders and told her to wake up. That was a good idea - safe, except that she didn't feel like going back to sleep.

So it was going downstairs, then. She couldn't possibly stay here forever and do nothing until someone came to check on her. She wasn't sleepy, and she figured she needed to be productive.

_Yeah,_ she thought. _Washing up and getting changed would be good, for starters._

She picked up a brush and ran it through her hair absent-mindedly, still pondering, still only just weighing her options. She was reluctant to put herself in a situation where she would be the centre of attention. She knew she already kind of got there, with the fake embryo and all, but she didn't want _more_ attention. Just as she was untangling a lock, she heard the door knob turn. She spun around, brush still in her hands, and stared at Jake, who entered while balancing a tray on one hand.

"Amy, y-"

"Where the hell were you?" she blurted, half-irritated, half-relieved. She was glad that she was treading on familiar ground again. At least she knew Jake well. She was happy she didn't need to go downstairs on her own, but annoyed that he hadn't left her a note.

"Well, good morning to you, too," Jake said. He closed the door with a shaking hand while he balanced the tray on his knee, and walked over to the bed, where he set it down.

"Wha-"

"My mum insisted I bring this upstairs for you. I told her you were still sleeping, but she said you'd be awake by now, and, God knows how she figured _that _out. It's like she just has this sixth sense that tells her when people will be awake, which, if you ask me, is _really_ creepy, but-"

"Was she mad? Did she ask why I was still asleep? Was everyone... already there? _When did you even wake up?_"

He looked at her and tried not to smile. Though it was hard not to. She was so... uptight. About everything. So panicky, so jumpy, so... _Amy_. He delighted in seeing her like this. It was a guilty pleasure of his. The way her brows start to knit together, the way her face falls... he knew that it was wrong to find it funny - how sadistic did he have to be? - but he had always thought she had a great face for disappointments. Which was something he'd never tell her, ever, because while it didn't sound like an insult, it wasn't a compliment either.

She noticed the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, and she frowned.

"Seriously, Jake. What did your mum say-"

"I know, I know," he said. "Nothing. She said it's all good. And that you should eat more, because of the baby, and because breakfast is delicious." He pointed to the tray, and she looked at it. He was right. It was a plateful of pancakes, topped with butter and syrup. The side was littered with fruit - raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, and apple slices chopped up so daintily it would have been mistaken as a meal for a teething baby. And a cup of tea stood on the side, fumes hovering on its surface. The thought of all of that being hers made her mouth water. "So... you can worry about everything later, but there really isn't anything to worry about."

She had put down her hair brush, and now she was standing with her arms crossed. She looked perplexed, and then suspicious.

"Look, Amy. I didn't tamper with your alarm clock, if that's what you're thinking. You look..." Jake paused. "You look weirdly _angry._ With me. With me?"

"I didn't think that. And I'm not angry," she said. "Do I look like I'm angry?"

"A little bit," he said, and then mentally punched himself in the face. He had forgotten that he was not supposed to agree with women when they asked stuff like that. He had been through so many of these exchanges with his mother; he would've known better by now. But he apparently did not.

"You're not supposed to agree with me," Amy mumbled through gritted teeth. "You're supposed to say, '_no, Amy, you don't look angry_.' And then you're supposed to tell me it's your fault anyway, because it _is_, and then I'll smile, and you'll smile, and I'll say, '_stop smiling, I'm still mad at you_', and then you'll accept it, and stop smiling-"

"No," he said quickly, albeit forming a frown, too. "You don't look angry. At all. You look..." he searched for a word to use, and failed. "You know what, I'm not going to finish that sentence, because I'm gonna use the wrong verb and that'll piss you off."

"Adjective," she corrected him without batting an eye, and then softened. She had only just realised how harsh she had sounded just then.

"Okay," she said. "Sorry. _Sorry_. I just..." she looked at him. "I just freaked out, because the alarm didn't go off, and now I'm late, and-"

"Relax," he said. "You're not late for anything. It's Saturday."

"I was late to breakfast, I bet," she said. "I mean, I already _know_ that I'm late to breakfast, without having to bet, because you've just brought the tray up. Which means you probably talked _about _me during breakfast, because we all know how this family thing works - we do that with my brother's girlfriends behind their backs - _all of them _\- and now... _oh God_." She paused to catch her breath, and all Jake did was look at her.

"And now you're a mess," he pointed out.

She looked down at what she was wearing. The hoodie jacket over her tank top, and a pair of pyjama shorts.

"I am," she said. "And I haven't got any make-up on, and I've only brushed the left side of my hair. Plus my voice sounds weird because I've just woken up, and... and..." she looked at him, helpless.

"I was joking," his words rushed out to stop hers from forming, and shrugged. "You look great, make-up or not. You'd probably even look great if you were bald. Which is just unfair. Not many people can pull that off."

She kept her head down and let out a huff from her nose, the kind when you were slightly amused, but didn't find it funny enough to laugh aloud.

"Alright," Jake said. He exhaled. "You do your thing. I'll be downstairs. I'll tell my mum to exempt you from lunch if you want me to, because it's in, like-" he glanced at the clock. "An hour and a half. And you'll probably not be hungry yet, given... _this_." He gestured at the filling breakfast. "So."

"So," she said, and pursed her lips.

"I'll be downstairs," he repeated, and turned to leave. He got outside, and poked his head back in, causing Amy to jump. "Don't worry," he said. "This isn't middle school camp. You're not late for registration. There is no registration."

He smiled and closed the door.

Amy looked at her breakfast and smiled to herself. She could hear his footsteps as he ran down the stairs, and she heard him shout 'PRESENT-OPENING TIME!' even with the hardwood floors that, she was sure, muted almost every other conversation.

_What an idiot_, she thought, rolling her eyes as she walked into the bathroom, still smiling.

* * *

**3:00PM**

Amy did skip lunch in the end, and Julie didn't mind at all. _Though if you feel peckish at any time, just pester Jake, _she had told her. _There's plenty left over from lunch, but if you're not up for that, he should be able to fix you something._ Amy had nodded politely, and then sneaked a glance at Jake. She wondered if he was any good at making proper, edible, human adult food. Just last week, she had seen him put orange juice in his cereal. For _lunch_. That man had no boundaries... or maybe he was just exceptionally creative. She found herself defending him in her head, and told herself to shut up.

Allie and Josh had to leave right after lunch because Josh had something urgent come up at work. They had to reschedule their flights, and during peak season, it took them a while (and a hundred dollars) before they finally managed to squeeze themselves on a plane. Julie was planning to tell Allie to stay, but decided against it when she realised she was leaving the next day anyway, and that they had packed their luggage together. She would see them again soon - they always came back for weekends whenever they could, because Allie had a strong sense of attachment to her mother, and Josh liked Julie, too. She let them go, and before she left, Allie gave Amy a hug - one that lasted a whole minute.

Amy normally squirmed when a hug lasted more than five seconds ("I have work to do. I can't just hug people forever."), but she was comfortable this time. Maybe spending time here did help her slow her pace down, and she was glad that it did. Allie left Amy her number and told her to call her, and Jake doubled over at their exchange.

"_Great_," he had said, while leaning against the door frame. He waited until Julie was busying herself with saying goodbye to Josh, and then dropped his voice. "My life is officially over, now that you're friends with Fart Monster Amy." He was loud enough for both Allie and Amy to hear him, and Amy rolled her eyes as Allie smacked her brother on the head gently.

"You should be on the ground _worshipping_ Amy for agreeing to help you with this, not calling her names," Allie whispered. "She totally upped your dating average." She turned to Amy and pulled a face. "_Men_."

After everyone had said their goodbyes, and the three of them had watched them leave the driveway, the house felt empty.

Julie decided that she didn't want to make Amy uncomfortable by bringing too much attention to her, so she busied herself with a book, telling the both of them that she'd be upstairs in her room if they needed her.

"Is your mum annoyed with me?" Amy whispered after Julie had gone upstairs.

They were sitting on the couch, flipping through some old magazines, their legs tucked beneath them, with just enough distance between the two of them.

"No way," he said. "Trust me; if she were mad at you, she'd make it obvious. She's probably just giving you space. She doesn't want to overwhelm you, with just the three of us here."

"Oh," she said. She thumbed through an old issue of _The Ecologist_ and put it down. She wasn't in the mood for educational reading, which was strange, for her. "So..."

"So..." he prompted her.

"So. It's 2pm. Your mum has given up on us. What are we going to do with all this time?"

* * *

**4:10PM**

"You are so _immature_!" Amy yelled as she threw his pillow across the room. It was a strong shot; it him in the gut, and he fell back, leaning onto a cabinet. He held out an arm behind him to stabilise himself. In doing so, he knocked over a plastic photo frame, which fell to the floor with a loud _thud_.

"Well, what are you going to do about that?" he shouted, dodging as a cushion came flying in his direction. He grabbed it, and catapulted it back at her.

"For the first time ever, probably _nothing_," she responded, letting out a high-pitched scream as she put her arms in front of her face to defend the force of the blow. "Because this is so much _fun_."

"Amy Santiago, living life for the very first time!" Jake declared, before picking up the pillow she had thrown at him just moments ago to take revenge. He poised himself, and aimed at her face.

* * *

**An hour ago**

The two of them were bored out of their minds sitting on the couch, and being a responsible, mature, and grounded adult, Jake suggested they have a pillow-fight.

"I've never tried that before," Amy said, matter-of-factly, as she colour-coded the magazines, and he looked at her. He gasped dramatically, appalled.

"You've _never_ \- never, ever, ever - had a pillow fight before?" He stared at her, open-mouthed. He couldn't believe his ears. He knew she didn't play as much as she worked, but... pillow-fights were a classic at every sleepover. Or every non-sleepover. When they were still teenagers, he would barge into Allie's room with a handful of cushions and start attacking, with no explanation. It would send her shrieking, and then she would yell at him to tell him to leave her room, because she was working on some _very important _project for her University application, and he would roll his eyes at her every time.

"University application? _Please_. You're only a junior. Besides, who wants to go to University anyway? I'm not. I'm going to stay at home and play video games. Mum said I could do that if I wanted."

"What do _you_ know about University? You're in middle school, for God's sake," Allie would dish out, and when he refused to leave her alone, she would turn to using force and pushing him out of her room, almost always slamming the door behind her.

Jake smiled at the memory, and then looked at Amy. She seemed to know what he was thinking without having him to say anything.

"I've never been to a sleepover," she said defensively. "Nor have I ever hosted one. It's not my fault. My parents didn't like the idea of sleepovers very much. My friends all went to each other's, and they all had these inside jokes from nights of staying up late gossiping about boys and school. Except me."

For a moment, he almost felt bad for her.

"But have you ever built a fort?"

"No."

"Oh, come on, Amy. You're better than this."

She shrugged.

"My brothers built forts. I didn't. I chose not to participate because I didn't know how to build one."

"You could've learned! You have seven brothers! Teenage me would have gladly traded Allie over for any one of them."

"I would've done the same," she agreed. "I couldn't ask them. They would've known that I didn't know how to build one in the first place, which... casts me in a bad light."

"They're your _brothers_."

"We're competitive," she explained.

"Well then," he said. "_Guess it's down to me to teach you how to live._"

* * *

**An hour and a half later**

The pillow hit Amy on the shoulder, and she gritted her teeth. _She was going to get back at him, she was going to get back at him, she was going to get back at h-_

She flung the pillow in his direction, and it flew through the roof of his fort, which had been sitting safely behind him. He reached over to defend the shot, but it was too late; his fort had crumbled to pieces. He raised his arms in the air and let out a defeated groan that sounded like a dying animal, and she laughed as she made faces at him, dancing around the room at the expense of his downfall.

He had to admit that it was cute. He had rarely seen this side of Amy at work, though with good reason. She never clowned around at the Precinct with Holt being there. She needed to impress him too badly. She needed to prove to him that she was a professional. That she wasn't like Jake. That she could be relied upon, and that she had plans to become the Captain herself one day.

Even when they received their monthly reports and she found that her track record had beat Jake's - which it did, sometimes, and it always made her incredibly giddy - she would hold it in together until she got to her car. It was only then that she would proceed to let out a whooping laugh and do some in-seat dancing. He knew this because he had witnessed it several times, and he loved that she didn't know he knew.

All along, he knew she had it in her to goof around properly. It just took a bit more time for her to feel at ease, and whenever Holt was around - which was often - he weighed her sense of humour down like a leaded anvil. "He doesn't tie me down. More like he keeps me on my toes, like a good mentor would" was what she always said. But Jake knew what he saw and he knew the difference between the Amy at work and the Amy right now. He supposed he adored both versions, even if the most Work-Amy could do was grin like a moron.

Anyway. He couldn't believe Amy Santiago had beat him at his own game, which had taken place_ in his own room_. He had picked the best spot for himself, building the fort with extreme caution, while she merely put hers together without second thought, and in a hurry. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't deliberately let her win. He did let her hit him on purpose for a few times at first, but he never intended for his fort to be destroyed by the hands of his very amateur enemy. He wanted her to feel good, but not that good.

And yet.

Here he was, soaking in all the shame, while she basked in her glory. It was unacceptable as it was embarrassing. He just knew that Allie would be delighted to hear that Santiago had kicked his ass again.

* * *

**5:45PM**

"I didn't know being immature could be so much fun," Amy panted.

They were lying side-by-side on the double bed, and his pillows, blankets, and cushions were strewn all over the floor. _Like the way they used to,_ he thought, as he reminisced about his middle and high school days. Amy's instincts were telling her to pick them up before Julie comes in to see the mess they've made, but she suppressed them as best as she could. She was learning to unlearn all the strict rules she had previously imposed on herself. Jake was right. This was the Peralta family home, not middle school camp. There were no punishments waiting to be doled out. She could let loose and live a little for a weekend.

"Well, even at your age, it is not too late to start leading a brand new life," Jake responded almost mockingly.

"No," she said. "I can't 'lead a brand new life' revolving around sleeping in and snacking and napping and pillow fights and building forts."

"Why not?"

"It's not who I am," she said. "This life is yours. I have mine."

"We can both have mine," he said.

"That's like... if I asked you to start living life my way forever," she interrupted. "It doesn't work."

_No, it doesn't, _he thought. _Though he supposed he could try, if she had wanted him to._

"And I need to go to work, and I need to be professional, and I need to-" she stopped talking when she noticed that he had turned to look at her. His gaze felt heavy, and she tried not to feel too self-conscious, even though she knew that he was not looking at her to scrutinise her appearance.

"And you need to what?" he asked.

"Don't look at me like that."

She didn't know how to continue the conversation. She knew when he was giving _the look - _she could recognise it in an instant - and he was doing it now. She had seen him look at Sophia like that when they were dating. It was the kind of look that felt like it could be love, and maybe that did make her tense up and jealous and irritated when it wasn't her on the receiving end instead. But now that she was, she felt uncomfortable.

She liked to say yes to romantic adventures. Her work schedule was hectic most of the time, but she went on dates when she could, when she found them attractive enough, when they used proper punctuation in texts, when they tell her that they were not afraid of commitment. But deep down, she knew that she was never going to marry any of those men. It was true that most of them were, by definition, great potential husbands. They were employed, they were respectful, they didn't find her boring. But she had always thought - _hoped_ \- there would be some sort of spark, and she never felt that longing, that feeling like she was on the verge of exploding every time she received a bouquet of flowers.

With Jake, it was somewhat... different. She wasn't sure why she felt jealous when she saw him with Sophia, but she knew that it wasn't because she wore a size 2 or that she had really great hair. Jake had told her that he had feelings for _her_, and even though that was months ago, and she knew that crushes were not any sort of commitment, it still felt weird to see his arm around someone else. Even after he had broken up with Sophia, Amy felt a surge of panic every time he mentioned going on dates. It was unfair of her to keep him on an imaginary leash, so she always wished him luck, even though she also always hoped that it wouldn't work out. She wondered if he thought the same every time she went out on a date. She kind of hoped that he did.

Maybe she was just biding time. But for what? And why?

"Like what?" he asked, still looking at her.

"Like... _you know_."

_Complicated. _Maybe that was the only word to describe their relationship after all. And she didn't think she could do complicated. She was too practical. A part of her wanted time to stand still while she figured it out, piece by piece. She wanted both of them to stay single so she could finally put her mind onto_ them_. And until then, until she had come to a logical conclusion to what their relationship was and could be, she preferred them leaving things unspoken. It didn't matter what they already knew. That was six months ago. She wanted to, at least, be absolutely clear about her own feelings this time round.

"Like we're romantic stylez?" he asked.

"Like we're romantic stylez..." she echoed, not knowing what he meant by that. Not knowing why he had to bring it up.

"Santiago," he said. "Look at me."

She turned to him hesitantly. It was weird seeing him close-up. It was almost as if he were a different person.

"Well?" she mouthed. Things were taking a turn for the unexpected.

"I don't know why you never _be yourself_ at the Precinct, Amy. I mean, you're..." he paused. "Put it this way. Gina lets everyone know that she loves to dance, and she sasses everyone, and she treats herself like she's the queen of everything. Charles talks about food. Rosa doesn't hesitate to let you know that you have pissed her off. Terry keeps a framed photo of his girls on his table, and-"

She frowned. That was not what she was expecting, and she looked away, almost as if she were trying to pull away. "Oh." She didn't know what she wanted to say to that.

"That's not what I'm trying to say," he added quickly.

"What are you trying to say?"

"No, look at me," he said again, but this time she was reluctant, and he didn't make her. He just carried on talking. "It's just, you have a thing, Amy. Your thing is being smart and strong and funny. And you don't show it. It irritates me when you get your words all jumbled up in front of Holt."

"What do you have against him?"

"_Nothing_. It's not about him-" he said. He was flustered. "It's about _you_. You never know how good you are. You don't have the confidence. You should walk into the Precinct knowing that you're at least the second best detective there - I've seen your track records -"

"_You've seen them? _Jake-"

"I've seen them, and you're always great," he said. "And I don't understand why you just don't own up to that. You don't need to impress anyone. You're a good detective. I just wish you'd know this."

She averted her eyes. _So it was just about work, _she thought.

"And it's not just about work," Jake said, as if he had just read her mind. "It's... everything. When will you realise that you are a great person, Amy? You're clever, hardworking, and... let me just say this: super attractive. This is why I like you. That's what I'm saying. Men should be lining up to go on dates with you. Why aren't they?"

He stopped talking, and she had never heard silence quite that loud. He seemed to feel the same, and he filled in the blanks for her.

"Well, apart from the fact that you are carrying my baby, nothing should be stopping you from going on dates."

He was teasing her now, his tone changed as suddenly as this conversation had occurred, and she tried not to punch him in the rib.

_No physical contact, Santiago, _she reminded herself. There were only two ways this could go: she could punch him in the rib, and he would return the punch gently, and soon they would be nudging and pinching and poking and prodding, and things would get messy. Or she could just step off, and let things suspend in mid-air until she made sense of herself, and why that conversation had taken place at all in the first place.

She sat up on the bed, and then got up.

"Where are you going?" he asked. She could hear the confusion in his voice. "Amy, I-"

"Your mum should be preparing dinner right now," she said. "I- I think I'll go give her a hand in the kitchen."

And before he could do or say anything, she slipped out of his room without looking back, closing the door behind her gently. The house was silent upstairs, and she could see Julie's empty room from where she stood. She paced the landing slowly, waiting for her breathing to smoothen, and kept quiet and waited for signs of Jake getting up from the bed. She hoped he wouldn't. And she hoped they would pretend that their conversation had never happened.

Inside, Jake lied still, his breathing ragged. He was trying to process the conversation that had just taken place. With Amy walking off like this, he knew he had messed it up again. A good moment. A good friendship. (Was it still friendship after everything he said?) He was always messing things up when it came to her - being too loud, too abrupt, too impatient, too... _something._ What Holt did to Amy, Amy did to him. Spilling things, tripping over words, making their dynamic weird and awkward and uncomfortable. Except that Amy had not the slightest romantic interest in Holt.

_And thank God for that, _he thought.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: HAPPY MAY! I'm sorry it takes forever for me to update. Here is a short chapter. My first exam is in 3 days, so the struggle is, in fact, very real right now.**

**\+ Thanks for the nice reviews!**

* * *

**26 December, 11PM**

Dinner was, needless to say, sufficiently awkward. _Actually, just 'sufficiently' would've been an understatement_, Amy thought, now curled up in bed on her own in the dark. It was _unbearably_ awkward. She couldn't meet Jake in the eye the entire time, and it only made matters worse when she decided to put on her old CDs on repeat in her head, because she ended up zoning out to the point where she tuned Julie out, too.

"How did you guys spend your day?" Julie would ask, and Jake would fill in the blanks as he always did. Amy would try to suppress the memory of the entire day - even the bits when she actually had fun. Then Julie would turn to Amy to ask for her view on something completely arbitrary, on shampoo or candles or the sports she played, and she would end up stuttering. Julie didn't understand the sudden change in Amy's behaviour, but thought she would just keep quiet about it. She thought that maybe it was the pregnancy. The mood swings that came along with the daunting prospect of carrying a human being the size of a watermelon inside of you for months - they happened sometimes. It happened with her, so who was she to dictate Amy's emotions?

Throughout the meal, Amy only got progressively closed in, and eventually, Julie stopped trying to make small talk altogether. It was clear that she wasn't at all responsive, and, at this point, not even trying very hard. Amy felt rude and guilty, but she just couldn't bring herself to be normal. Jake didn't help her try to diffuse the tension after a while, and dinner was silent except for the sound of cutlery clanging against the white ceramic plates.

Amy looked up several times to make eye contact with Jake, hoping they could communicate through telepathy, but always seemed to change her mind when he looked back at her. She averted her gaze before he could say anything, and she could feel him tense up. It made her wonder if he was mad at her, or fed up. She hoped he wasn't, but even if he was, she supposed she understood why.

It was weird and embarrassing to put yourself out there and be vulnerable, then be shot down without a proper response. She admit that she had been a total jerk about it, running away just because it was convenient. He wasn't even asking her out. He was just... complimenting her. Okay - so maybe he never complimented anyone else like this, and maybe it would have been better if he had never brought up the whole 'romantic stylez' thing. But it wasn't like he was down on one knee, asking for her hand in marriage...

If she had known how painfully uncomfortable their dynamic would end up being, she would just have disagreed to go on this trip. She was already horribly awkward on her own. She figured that out a long time ago. She really didn't need an entire string of events to reaffirm it.

Amy flipped onto her side and looked at Jake, who was fast asleep on the floor, his back turned on her. She knew she had= to fix this.

* * *

**27 December, 7:30AM**

Amy's alarm went off with the shrill sounds of sirens, and she extended an arm to turn it off, not wanting to wake Jake. She didn't need to worry. He was sleeping like a log, his arms tucked, on his side, completely oblivious to everything. They were set to return in the afternoon, and even though she missed her apartment in New York, she didn't feel like leaving. It was always like this - she would go someplace unfamiliar for a while, miss her apartment like hell at first, then adapt and never want to leave just yet, when it was time to pack her things and go. She thought about going back to work tomorrow, and that cheered her up a little bit. She had a pile of open cases, and she thought she knew where she was going with most of them. She couldn't wait to be the Detective Of The Month Again - a title that didn't officially exist, but one that she rewarded herself with every time she topped her fellow colleagues for the most arrests that month.

She left the curtains closed and ended up having to grab her clothes in the dark, fumbling with her suitcase like a madwoman. She slipped into the bathroom, careful to close the door behind her lightly, making sure she doesn't wake him up, and locked the door with ease.

* * *

**8:20AM**

"Good morning," Julie said, a smile on her face with a cup of tea in one hand when she saw Amy slip down to the kitchen. She was poring over the morning paper, and she seemed pleased to see her. Amy smoothed her dress with her palms and smiled nervously.

"Morning."

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yeah, I did," Amy said, and paused. "Thanks for asking."

Julie got up to pour herself some more tea, and continued speaking with her back turned to Amy.

"Is Jake up?"

"No, he's-"

"I knew it. He'd never be up before 10 on weekends. He's such a teenager." She paused to set the mug down on the table, and looked at Amy. "Would you like some toast? We have oatmeal, if you prefer-"

"Actually, breakfast can wait. I think we need to talk," Amy blurted, and Julie looked confused.

"Talk? About what?"

"Just... sit down, _please._ I mean, I think you're going to need to sit down for this one," Amy winced at her poor execution as Julie settled onto the chair once again. Amy hesitated. She thought about Jake sound asleep upstairs, and she thought about taking back her words and telling Julie it was nothing important, that she was just joking, and go back to bed.

"I'm..." Amy said. She bit her lip. Did she have to do this? No, she didn't. She could tell her something else. That she was grateful for her pancakes, because they taste delicious. That the size of Texas is approximately the size of Europe. Slip in a fun fact about the courtship behaviour of animals. Say something about her favourite shade of lipstick. Anything but this. _Oh, what the hell,_ she thought, and mentally put a quarter in the swear jar. She summed up whatever bit of courage was left inside of her, and opened her mouth to speak.

"I- Julie. I'm not... pregnant. I'm not pregnant. I'm sorry."

* * *

Julie took a deep breath and stared at her. Just stared. It made Amy squirm, made her hide her hands behind her back while she fidgeted. _This is a disaster waiting to happen_, she thought. _Or maybe it had already happened. _She shouldn't have said it. She shouldn't have said anything. She should just have pretended she was pregnant, and married Jake, and adopted some orphan with brown hair and wavy hair, and raised him like their own. That way _nobody_ would need to know anything was a lie, even though everything was a lie.

_Calm down,_ Amy thought to herself. _Calm down. She's not going to freak out, she's not going to scream at you, she's not going to cry-_

"When did..." When Julie finally found the words to say, she didn't know _what_ to say.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Amy, is this why you were so closed off last night? I can't imagine-"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Peralta, I really am, I didn't mean for this. I-"

_I didn't mean to lie, _she thought, but didn't say out loud.

"Julie," she corrected her. "Please don't call me Mrs Peralta. And don't be sorry. I- when did you..." she lowered her voice to a whisper. "When did you _lose it_?"

_What?_

"When did you...?" Julie tried again, and beckoned Amy to walk over. Amy looked concerned and scared, not knowing what was happening. To her surprise, Julie stood up to wrap her arms around her, her hand on her head like she was cooing a baby. Amy stood stiffly, before peeling herself away.

"I didn't. I... I was never pregnant. At all. I'm sorry for lying to you. But I can explain," Amy mumbled, and Julie frowned.

"Why would you lie about this?" Julie's voice was low, and Amy felt her throat tighten. She was not good at confrontation.

"I..."

"Does Jake know about this?"

"No," Amy said. _No, he didn't know that I had snuck downstairs and ratted on him like some horrible traitor. But he will very soon, and I will have to deal with that too, _she thought.

"He... he doesn't know that you're not pregnant? Amy," Julie said, pulling a face, which made Amy squirm. "I... you need to tell him right away. He's the father."

Amy paused, eyes widened, and realised Julie had misunderstood.

"No," Amy corrected, and she gulped. Julie raised an eyebrow. "I mean... he knows. He knows that I'm not pregnant. He... we... he said it to make you happy. He said I was pregnant to make you happy. It's... it's not your fault. It's ours. His. Mine. I'm sorry. We weren't going to do this, but-"

She was about to mumble on, but Julie looked at her with a look she couldn't quite decipher, and she sealed her lips.

"_He said it to make me happy?_"

"I-" Amy paused. "I guess." She didn't really know what she was on about now. Maybe she should just shut up and leave. But she couldn't leave Julie to have to deal with being lied to on her own.

"It's okay," Julie said, this time squirming. "I mean, it's not, but it is. It's complicated, and I should come clean about this. I shouldn't say it out loud, but since you're not pregnant, I guess I should." Her sentences were choppy like Amy's were, and it felt as though the whole atmosphere had been reversed.

Amy raised an eyebrow. _What did Julie have to come clean about?_

"I'm not ready to be a grandparent," she confessed. She looked slightly sheepish, and she spoke slowly, softly. "I'm.. It's just that I haven't been the best mother, with Jake's father leaving, and... it was difficult for me. I haven't done anything to stunt Jake and Allie's growth, but I always feel like maybe I should've done more, and... as a result, I don't think I'd ever be a good grandmother."

"But Jake told me you wanted Allie to have kids," Amy blurted out before she had a chance to filter her words. She was confused, and she hoped she didn't sound too harsh.

"I do. I was hoping she'd change her mind eventually, but I figured that she wouldn't. She would never, and I stopped pressuring her into it. I know I joke about it a lot, but I've told her that she should do what she wants to. I'm her mum, but it's their family. I have no business in it when it comes to making these kinds of decisions." Amy was hit by how honest Julie was that she didn't even have time to react, to say a few comforting words, words to reassure Julie.

"And I suppose I do want grandchildren, just... not yet. Not so soon," Julie continued. "When I heard you were pregnant, I was happy. I was. Who doesn't want to hear that her immature son has knocked up someone he only started dating months ago?" She paused, and they both let out a low laugh. "But then I started to worry. And I had to leave you guys alone yesterday, not because I was mad, but because... I was still trying to come to terms with becoming someone's grandmother. It's a big thing."

Amy wasn't expecting this. She realised that it probably would have been better to just have told Julie about it from the beginning to save her from worrying - but coming clean completely wouldn't have worked. Julie had just cooled down from her fake pregnancy. She still thought they were romantically involved. Amy got away with this one, but it might kill Julie to find that everything that had happened in the past few days had only been one very elaborate lie.

"I'm glad you've decided to be honest about this," Julie said, then pursed her lips, not knowing what to say next.

_No, thank you_, Amy thought, but never managed to say it. Instead, she echoed a 'me too' and left it at that.

Neither of them turned out to be what either of them thought they would be. It was a weird feeling, and she wasn't sure how Julie felt about this, but she was sure of how she felt. Instead of blame or guilt or embarrassment, all Amy felt was a tender kind of truth and acceptance. She hoped their mutual understanding was enough to make this alright. And somehow, it was.

* * *

**9:30AM**

_Told your mum about fake baby - but not about fake us, _Amy scribbled on the back of a piece of draft paper she found on a shelf. She underlined the word 'us' forcefully, thrice, and frowned. Should she use the word 'us' at all? Maybe she should, but she shouldn't have emphasised it like that. But if she didn't, would he know what she meant? _Your mum took it well, _she continued.

_Please don't be mad,_ she wrote, acutely aware that she was running out of space, and then paused, before crossing the last four words out with one harsh stroke. She walked to the bathroom, turned the tap on and wet the edges of the paper carefully, sticking it up onto the mirror for him to find when he woke up.

She went downstairs and saw Julie perched on the corner of the couch. She cleared her throat and she looked up, and Amy opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but... do you have a glue-gun?"


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: HI! ****Thank you for your reviews - they came so quickly that I was just like - ****_did you even read the chapter?_**

**SPEAKING OF CHAPTERS, this IS the last one. I promise. Congratulations. You've made it. Four long months later, WE ARE ONLY ON CHAPTER EIGHT, but it is the end, and you've made it. Sorry, excuse me, there are emotions leaking out of me. They are called tears and I need a tissue. Okay. Thanks.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**26 December, 12:40PM**

"Was it something that I said at the table? Are you mad at me? Because if you are, you can just tell me, and I'd totally understand, and I know I'm a buzzkill, and I'm sorry, but it's not my fault," Amy worried out loud, badgering Jake, who was throwing things into his suitcase. They just had lunch - brunch for him - and they were heading to the airport in an hour and twenty minutes. Being Amy, she had packed and zipped and locked her suitcase two hours ago; it was standing beside the front door, ready to go. She loitered in the room, following him around as he picked up his clothes, all the while mumbling.

"You know, it's working, this whole 'ignore Amy until she goes crazy' thing," Amy went on, frustrated that Jake had decided to go down this route of the silent treatment for seemingly no reason. It was like he had just decided to shut her out for fun. "Because I can _feel_ myself going crazy. You can't just kiss me and then ignore me like that," she said. "Even if we never kissed, we _work together_. Bet you didn't think of that, did you? We sit across each other, so good luck with spending the rest of your life ignoring me."

Jake kept quiet, and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

So he did kiss her out of the blue, at the lunch table. It wasn't planned, but it wasn't like he was doing it on purpose. Julie still didn't know that they weren't really dating, and when he went downstairs and Amy leaned in for a hug, he had misunderstood and thought she was going for a kiss instead, as a part of the act. And it was only when she had pinched him in the rib that he realised he had _seriously_ misread her signs. He pulled away quickly, but he couldn't say he didn't enjoy it.

Amy bounced back quickly, and the meal went as per normal. Julie then brought up the fact that she knew the truth about Amy's so-called pregnancy. She revealed their conversation in the kitchen that had taken place in the morning, and weirdly, that seemed to shut Jake up. He kept quiet from that moment on, never saying anything to Amy other than the occasional one-worded replies when she prompted him. "Would you like pepper on that?" Amy would ask, and Jake would nod. She'd ask him if he wanted more coffee, and he'd shake his head, like he was mute. She didn't understand. Was he mad at her for coming clean?

Amy sat on the edge of his bed, frowning.

_So the truth is out. What's the big deal? _she thought. _I'm not angry. Julie __isn't angry. Nobody's angry. So Jake doesn't have the right to be angry. He was the one who lied in the first place. He should be grateful I got him out of this heated mess._

She was fidgeting, bringing her fingers up to her mouth while she subconsciously bit her nails, an old habit that took her forever to put an end to.

Inside, Jake leaned on the edge of the sink. He didn't really need to go to the bathroom. He just wanted to get Amy out of his hearing range for a moment. He was not mad that the secret was out; he was frustrated hearing his mother talk about how she had always thought she was never good enough. His mother had spent all her time and resources raising himself and Allie on her own, and here she was, three decades later, feeling like she hadn't been the best mother. Except that she was. To him, she was the best mother anybody could ever ask for. It pained him to know that that was how Julie felt, from the bottom of her heart.

He should tell Amy that he wasn't mad at _her_, just at himself. For letting his mother think that she was anything but great.

Jake got out of the bathroom, and Amy stood up, watching him, her arms crossed.

"Jake, I'm going to reason with you, okay? I'm sorry I told your mum. But she wasn't mad. Let me explain to you how this works, okay? I-"

"Don't cross your arms at me and try to explain," Jake finally said. "You're always infantilising me like I'm some third-grader you've been appointed to deal with." He paused, and swallowed when he saw a wounded look on her face. Did he really just say that out loud? To her? In that tone? He was so caught up in his own ball of frustration that he had ended up misdirecting part of the anger at her. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. I just... I'm mad at myself, for some other reason, and-"

"_You think __I'm infantilising you_? Jake, are you hearing yourself?" Amy asked, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry. This is a misunderstanding. I'm not mad at you, and I'm sorry that you felt that I was, but-" Jake tried again, and Amy cut her off. She walked up to him and looked at him square in the eye, which made him flinch.

"Fine," she said, and his eyes widened.

_Fine what?_ he wondered, but didn't dare ask.

"Fine," she repeated. "You want to be treated like an adult? I will treat you like an adult." She hesitated. She gulped, and he could tell she was trying her best to come off as intimidating. It worked. Well, kind of. It was hard to be intimidating when you had big eyes.

"I've been trying my hardest to be your fake girlfriend, and it's difficult, because - guess what? You're not the ideal boyfriend I'd have in the first place. You're stubborn and hot-blooded and you think you're so badass. Well, I like to follow rules and tell the truth and I'm not okay with you acting like everything's always my fault. Like I'm always holding you back and making everything less fun. Everything's always rosy and spontaneous for you, but I actually like to plan and think and strategise. Maybe it makes me lame, but it makes me who I am, and I regret ever apologising for being myself."

Amy finished and took a deep breath, though her lips remained tightened. Jake opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him.

"You asked to be talked to like an adult, and that's what you're getting," she said. "I'm not going to coo you and calm you down and let you walk all over me like I'm some sort of soiled doormat."

She backed off and sat on the bed again, looking up at him with a frown.

He waited, and when she didn't seem to have anything to say to him anymore, started to speak.

"I'm not mad at you. I was never mad at you. I don't think you're a buzzkill or a lame nerd," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "Okay, you're right; don't roll your eyes. Maybe I do, a little bit. But I like you because of that, okay? And I'm sorry."

Amy's frown went away, and she looked at him.

"What is it, then?" she muttered, still not convinced.

"It's... my mum. She was talking about how she didn't think she was good enough to be a grandmother," he explained. "And that she didn't think she did the best job raising Allie and I, and it made me so..." he searched for a word.

"Pained," Amy filled in for him.

"Pained," he echoed, nodding. "I'm mad at myself because I never knew she thought about it like that. She's a great mum and she doesn't know it, which sucks. Allie and I never bothered to tell her that she's a great mum either. I think... I- if I had told her that, she'd have recognised it in her. And it makes me angry - at myself - that I never knew that was how she felt."

She looked at him, and for a moment, she didn't know what to do. She wasn't great at giving advice and comfort like Rosa was, but she wasn't good at telling Jake to 'get over it' the way Gina was, either. She wasn't even like Charles, who was good at taking the blame whenever Jake needed a scapegoat.

"Jake," she said, and she paused. "I... it's... _look._ This isn't your fault," she said quickly, and he looked at her. "She knows you think the world of her, and she loves you. She's just hard on herself. You know that."

"Yeah, but if I talked to her-"

"If you _talked_ to her, she still would've thought the same," she finished his sentence for him. "No one ever thinks they're good enough. It's just this whole weird thing that comes with being a human being that you have to accept. I mean, I try hard every day, and I'm not perfect-"

"I am," he interrupted.

"What?"

"You're not perfect, but I am. I could show you how, but I worry you won't be able to get on that level," he said, and smirked. Then dropped the smirk. "Anyway, I'm sorry. It just... I don't like thinking about that stuff."

"Me neither," she agreed. "So... can we just let it go? It's not that I don't care, but I feel like you'd be able to feel better if you'd just let it go and not dwell on it and mope around. The thing is, Julie's proud of you. She has raised one amazing daughter, and I hate to admit this, but also one-"

"-one even cooler than the first one," he said, smiling. "Me. I get it."

Amy was about to argue, but instead, she smiled.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"I am okay. I've always been okay."

"Well, you didn't seem very okay," she retorted, and then looked at him. "Seriously, though. You sure you're okay?"

"Sheesh." Jake rolled his eyes. "_Yes_."

"I just wanted to make sure," she said, and she smiled at him again, before opening the door. "I'll stop pestering you now. I'm glad you're fine... and now you need to get packing. We can't miss the flight. Holt will murder me. And it'll be an honour for me to get murdered by him, but then when I'm dead, someone's going to get my apartment. And I don't want them to tear the wallpaper."

"Yeah, wallpaper from the 1940s," he said, and she looked at him with a straight face.

"Duh, Jake. It's vintage," she said, and then shrugged. "Okay, well, I have something to finish up, so I'm just going to leave you alone now. I'll see you in an hour." She slipped out with a smile and a thumbs-up, leaving him standing by the edge of his bed, confused.

_Something to finish up?_ See_ you in an hour?_ he wondered._ What the hell is Amy Santiago up to?_

* * *

**1:45PM**

"I hope you're ready to go, because-" Amy poked her head through the doorway, and paused when she saw him staring at her. "What?"

"You're five minutes late."

She looked confused. "I-"

"An hour and five minutes ago you told me you'd see me in an hour. You are five minutes late," he explained. "So what are we going to do about that?"

She walked into his room with her hands behind her back, and he raised an eyebrow. She was hiding something.

"I thought there were no rules in this house."

"Now there are."

"_Says who?_" she asked, looking at him like he had just grown an extra head.

"Says me," he said, and he changed the topic. "What do you have hidden behind you?"

"Nothing," she said, looking away. "Nothing. Just... nothing at all."

"It's something," he said. "Something. Something for me?"

Amy looked at him and groaned inwardly. _Why did he always know? _

"Fine," she said. "It's your Christmas present. I realised I didn't get you anything, so I got you this. I _made_ you this. Well, kind of. If you call that making. And you'd better not say no to it, because I spent a long time glue-" she said, and stopped herself abruptly. She gulped and brought her arms forward, revealing an alarm clock in her hands. More specifically, her very own.

"That's your alarm clock," Jake said dumbly.

"And it is now yours," she responded, walking towards him to present him with his gift. She stuffed it into the palm of his hand and looked at him. "Congratulations."

"Well, I did need an alarm clock," he said, "so thank you. That's very... helpful."

"I know," she said, and grinned. He eyed her suspiciously.

"You're... smiling."

"Yeah, I am," she said.

"But why?"

"Do I need a reason to smile?"

"You always do."

"No, you don't. But I'm smiling because you are _screwed_, Jake."

He stared at her blankly, and she went on.

"I set the alarm to go off at 8AM every day. It's stuck," she said, and he jumped, spinning the digital clock around to check for a knob of some sort. "Don't bother toggling with the settings. See that big blob there? Plastic. Meaning they're fixed forever, 'cause I glued them in place. And it doesn't have a weekend setting. So you'll be hearing it ring every day at 8AM, even on Saturdays. No exceptions."

Jake gasped. "You know, I was touched moments ago, but now I just want this thing out of my life forever," Jake commented, pretending to be appalled, but she could tell that he was genuinely happy that she cared enough to go the distance. "Why do you have to be so evil?"

"I'm just trying to look out for you," she said. "Now you won't ever be late for work again."

* * *

**2:00PM**

"Mum, we have to go," Jake said impatiently as the cab waits outside the front door. His mum had finally stopped hugging him, but had now turned to Amy instead, showering her with attention, her hand on Amy's arm as she talked her through the economics of recycling.

"Oh, Amy, I'm going to miss you so much," Julie finalised, looking at her. "I have to say, all of Jake's girlfriends are such disappointments, but not you."

Amy raised an eyebrow, subtly shifting her gaze at Jake. She was met with his, and he shook his head, as if to say, _well, that's just untrue and ridiculous. _She had to turn away to stifle a smirk.

"You should come back and visit anytime," Julie continued. "I'd hate that I'll only get to see you once a year." She gave her a hug, and squeezed her tight. Amy nearly toppled over, and had to put a hand on the doorframe to stay upright on her feet. "Thank you."

"No, thank _you_," Amy said. "I've had a wonderful weekend and a wonderful holiday."

Jake nearly had to peel Julie off Amy, and soon, they were loading their suitcases into the back of the cab.

"Call me when you're about to fly, okay, Jake?" Julie called out, stood outside the front door.

"I will," Jake said, as he opened the door for Amy. She slid inside and he followed, closing the door in one loud bang. "Wait - mum?"

She walked over to the open window of the vehicle and stood by as Jake stuck his head out.

"Yes?"

"You may not agree with me, but you're a great mother. Just... don't ever forget that."

Julie didn't say anything; just nodded and waved as they drove off. When they had gone off in the distance, she sat on the stoop outside the house and looked down at her hands. She could see her veins wandering beneath the surface of her skin, like roads on a map. And for the first time, instead of hating them, she learned to love them; the very hands of the strong woman who had raised two beautiful children all on her own.

* * *

**7:20PM**

_Welcome to New York City - we hope you've had a pleasant flight with us, and we can't wait to see you again on board._

Jake stretched his legs out to the voice of the Captain speaking through the PA system, and unbuckled his seat belt as the sign went off. He turned to Amy and shook her gently to wake her up. She did with a startled purr and opened her eyes, lifting a hand to brush her hair aside. They stayed put in their seats, waiting for the other passengers to retrieve their bags from the overhead compartment as they had none.

"We've landed," he announced. She had been asleep the entire time they had been in the air, and now that she had finally woken up, she was slightly disoriented by the darkness outside the window. Her hair was tousled, and he wondered if he should reach over to help tuck the misbehaving strand behind her ear like she always did. "So."

"So," she echoed, her voice drowsy. She turned around to take a better look at the view outside the window. She could see the control tower from afar, and the runway that was littered with sparkling lights for guidance. "I can't believe it's dark already."

"Well, I can. You've been out ever since we took off."

She stared at him with the same expression she had always used with him - the half irritated, half amused look.

"Thanks for your input," she said sarcastically, and added solemnly - "and for the weekend. I loved it. I mean, it was really nice."

"_'It was really nice'_," Jake mimicked her in a high-pitched voice, and she rolled her eyes. "_Because you got to kiss me._"

"Seriously."

Amy turned around and whipped her phone out to take a photo of the view outside the window, and he looked at her as she did so, studying the back of her head, and the colour of her hair, and the... okay, speaking of hair - hers was bothering him. He tried not to stare, but one strand was tucked in the wrong direction, and for some reason, it just made him extremely antsy. His fingers twitched, and when she turned around, he edged over into her cautiously, raising a hand, prepared to tuck the strand of hair aside.

Being oversensitive, she edged away immediately, bumping her head against the interior of the plane. He retracted his arm quickly, out of embarrassment. She seemed to have taken it the wrong way.

"Wha-_ow,_" she said, rubbing the back of her head with her hand. "What was- what are you doing?"

"It's just there was- you had a strand of hair out of place and I was going to tuck it..." he tried to explain, and trailed off. He cleared his throat when he couldn't find the words and didn't know how to continue.

"Oh. Um. It's weird," she said, looking at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. It seemed like a cross between vulnerability and... was that fear? He didn't know.

He looked at her. "Amy, it's not weird."

"Yes, it is. It's very weird," she corrected him, but she wasn't mad. "You need to stop doing stuff like that."

"Are you still thinking about the whole... _thing_ I said?" he studied her face. "Oh, it was the kiss. About that... please don't take it seriously. I was... I don't know what I was thinking. I misunderstood you."

"Can we just pretend it never happened?" Amy asked - in an almost pleading tone. "Not that it was wrong," she added quickly. "But I just feel like- I feel like maybe we shouldn't be doing this at all."

"Yet?" he asked. He wanted to figure out what she was thinking. If only he could read her mind. _Were they lovers? Definitely not. Were they colleagues? They were more than that. Maybe they're friends. No, friends didn't kiss friends and realised they enjoyed it._

"Maybe."

The other passengers were leaving the aircraft, and Jake tucked his other arm into his lap to avoid being knocked into, which he was sure would eventually happen should we keep letting his elbow lie on the armrest.

"If that's what you want," he said, disappointed, but determined not to let it show.

"That is what I want," she said.

"So we step off the plane and we're Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago - friends who totally didn't do anything weird?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "That's what we'll be once we step off this plane."

He looked away, at the long line of people shuffling along the aisle. Nobody seemed to pay any attention to them at all; everyone seemed too busy and caught up in their own business to care. _Classic New Yorkers_, he thought. _It's every man for himself in this city._

"Well, we're still on the plane," he heard Amy say shyly.

He turned around, and suddenly, he found her lips pressed against his - _hard_. He did a double take; he would've staggered backwards and crashed into a couple of things had they been standing, and he kissed her back, his hands not knowing where to go. He found the armrest and leaned against it, before feeling a blow on his forearm. He heard somebody yell 'hey - watch it! This is an eight hundred dollar suitcase!' but he didn't bother to turn around to argue. He raised his arm and gave them the finger, sticking his hand in the air proudly as he kissed her back harder. The man muttered something angrily and shuffled along, and he put his arm down.

When they finally broke off, there was a grin on her face.

"Amy Santiago," he said, trying to catch his breath, barely reeling in from the kiss. "I did _not _know you had this in you." He felt all kinds of wonderful.

"I know, I know..." she mumbled, embarrassed. "But _once __we get off this plane, _it's Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago - friends who totally didn't do anything weird," she said through gritted teeth.

"Totally," he responded, breaking into a grin himself, hardly able to contain the joy inside of him. He could feel his heart swell as he looked into her bright eyes. He thought he could see his own reflection in the back of her eye, and for the first time in a long time, he classed this feeling as pure and unadulterated happiness. He didn't know when he was going to feel like that again. But then again...

"We're still on the plane," he noted.

"Yes," she replied. "Yes, we are."

They closed their eyes and leaned in.

* * *

**AN: I LOVE SATISFYING ENDINGS. I'm sorry I've been horrible at writing and even worse at updating. It's been a busy semester (hence the fragmented uploads) but I'll be super happy to write again in early June when I'm done with all my exams. :)**

**Thanks for sticking around. I love you. SEE YOU IN A MONTH. (Maybe?) (I don't know.) (Do people even read these?)**


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